Crows Zero II
by Avalon-Shiranui
Summary: A Crows Zero II story, giving the story with an added character—Serizawa Tamao isn't the type to let a person walk all over him; Yamada Hana isn't the type to let her demolished 800 dollar camera go unavenged. But he's SO cute...
1. Chapter 1

_**Crows Zero II**_

_By Avalon Shiranui_

**Chapter One**

She had spent the last three months looking for the perfect subject to enter in the contest. Triumphant photographers would be awarded with their work displayed in a gallery. She had intended to enter another piece she acquired in her trip to the Americas, but the necessity struck her to use a more domestic candidate. Something familiar but unknown, unbridled by the camera, making it all the more captivating. It was a heavy order to fill, and she still hadn't found anything that suited her. The deadline for submissions was closing in fast, and she was beginning to think she might have to withdraw.

But she'd found it. Or rather, them.

Hana saw them unexpectedly one morning when she was running late for class. Their voices carried in jovial fun, and she stopped her charge just long enough to get a glimpse of them. A group of boys gathered around a grill outside a rundown gas station, all looking their share of intimidating but none acting especially threatening.

Something about them enamored her. They were the real deal teenage delinquents. All bronze and no brains aside, she could tell by their camaraderie that other qualities existed: loyalty, passion, trust, endurance. That was what she wanted to capture through her camera. They were her muses.

So, a few days later, when she was able to skip a few classes, she went back. Sure enough, there they still stood, looking very much the way she left them. There was something a little different, though she wasn't sure what. Her camera would find it sooner or later, and she stood across the street under a shady tree, hunting through the lens.

There were five of them, all fairly predictable based on their appearances. Two twins that looked like an unnecessary blend of Yankee and _Bōsōzoku_ marked their trade through excessive chatter and dirty humor. One guy had long braids at least five times the length of her short caramel-brown hair, and his pocketed hands matched the lazy grin covering his wild-eyed face. The one next to him was a little sleeker but nonetheless just as wild-spirited, perhaps even more so judging by the sneer in his lip. The last guy possessed a brand of handsomeness none of the others mimicked. A rope headband was tied around his head, and his gently ambitious eyes puzzled her. He was different than the rest, yet not.

But what was missing? A centerpiece; a bond; a leader. These guys wouldn't come together voluntarily. A ring leader must rally these troops, and she was certain none of them were it.

Suddenly, her camera was yanked from her hands. She snapped her head up and glared at the guy turning away with her camera. "Oie! What're you doing?"

He threw the camera down with a brand of strength she'd never personally witnessed, but he did it with a look of utter boredom. The lens popped off instantly, and various tiny bits scattered across the pavement. He stomped it just once, no less bored, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked across the street.

Hana gawked at her dismembered and broken camera. All her pictures, not just from today, but from the weeks before. Those moments.

She threw her bag down beside the dilapidated pieces and stomped after him. "_Oie_!" He joined the group of guys gathered across the street, and her shout attracted all their attention except his. "_OIE_! Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

He dropped down on a crate and lit up a cigarette as one of the guys indicated their roasting hotdogs. "Do you have any idea what you were doing?" He inhaled on the nicotine and looked up at her, boredom never ceasing. "It's an invasion of privacy to take pictures of people without tellin em. I acted on my rights."

"Your right to destroy personal property?"

"My right to protect my privacy."

Hana scoffed, in the midst of them now, but her fury was so hot at this point that their full attention almost escaped her notice. "You could have asked me politely! That's an $800 camera, you asshole!" He was back to watching the hotdogs cook and exchanged conversation with one of the twins sitting next to him. "Oie!"

There was a hand on her shoulder, and the contact made her recoil instantly. It was the handsomest guy, but that fact didn't quench her anger in the slightest. He gave a half smile. "Maybe we could talk this out calmly. This doesn't need to be a scene."

"Calmly?" She rolled her eyes and threw a hand in the sitting man's direction. "Maybe you should teach him the concept of handling things calmly. Until then, action first and negations later is the only way to reach this pinhead."

"Oie," snapped the braided man. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"If I knew, I'd sue his ass." Hana glared at her enemy, who still managed to look remarkably bored despite the growing irritation of his comrades. "Give me the money for a new camera."

He scoffed and looked at her again. "Why don't you just get it fixed?"

Was he serious? Hana gawked, moving her mouth with the devout intention of screaming profanities at him, but it took several times for her voice to finally travel past her lips. "_Get it fixed_? You're the one who broke it! Why should _I_ pay for it? And with a camera like that, it costs just as much to fix it as it does to buy a new one, and thanks to you I'm short on time _and_ patience, so give me the money for my camera before I pull all that hair right out of your head!"

Now he grinned and almost laughed as he turned one of the hotdogs. "Ridiculous."

She made fists. "_What_?"

"Tamao." The handsome one nudged the rude one's shoulder.

Tamao glanced dryly at him. "What? She's the one making a scene."

"_Scene_? I'll show you a scene!" She took a step closer, but the handsome guy stepped between them.

He held up his hands defensively, dispelling any immediate hostility. "Uh, maybe we can reach a compromise, uhh…?"

She took her glare from Tamao and set it on the peacemaker. "Yamada Hana."

He smiled. "Hana. I'm Tatsukawa Tokio." She noticed the way he looked at her. He was cute but not cute enough to sweet talk her. "I think this is all just a big misunderstanding—"

"Then let me make it clear. I did nothing wrong by taking pictures in a public place, therefore it was _not_ an invasion of privacy, and you _are_ going to pay me for my camera or—"

"He'll pay you for it," Tokio interrupted abruptly.

Hana blinked, and Tamao snapped his head up in shock. "He will?"

"I will?" Tamao echoed.

"But in return," he continued, "you have to do something for us."

Hana glared and lunged forward to grab at Tokio, but Tamao jumped up out of his seat and held her back. "You stupid Yak-wannabes! Get over here; I'll give you something!"

Then there was a scuffle behind her, and she stopped to turn and look down at the man on the ground. His head was buzzed down, and he dressed in khaki slacks with a white button-down. He appeared semi-presentable except for the blanket of sweat draping his face. When he looked up at her, she got the distinct impression they met before.

"Kawaishi-san." No sooner had Tokio spoken the name that a hoard of bald guys dressed in off-gray uniforms ran around the corner. They stumbled to a panting halt.

The guys around her looked suddenly tense and suspicious, but all that Hana noticed was that the path the new arrivals took led them trampling over her already ruined camera. "Oie!" She jumped toward them now as they approached, but Tamao grabbed her arm. He didn't bother to look at her as he and his crew met the baldies halfway, blocking the fallen guy.

"Hey!" shrieked one the opponents. "You better hand him over to us!"

"What the hell do you baldies want?" one of Tamao's men replied, taking a step forward only to have Tokio block him with his arm. The outburst caused a fit of screaming from the hoard.

"Now guys, calm down," Tokio interceded. Quite obviously, he was the voice of reason in this environment of fists-a-cuffs. But they weren't having it.

"What did you say?" Hana watched this enemy man carefully. He had bushy hair pulled back from his face, but the Yankee trademark strip across his nose didn't help his already obnoxious disposition. He was somewhat good looking, definitely in a renegade sort of way, but she didn't like the way he looked at Tokio like he was vermin.

"_SERIZAWAAA_!" Another cry from the hoard. The guy who stomped forward most certainly was not attractive in _any_ way. He had a gold tooth on one side, his hair was too short, his upper lip too snarly, his forehead too big, and his eyes too wide. The combination made him appear insane, and, judging by the way he strutted anxiously toward the front, this Serizawa person made him all the more crazy. "Hey, do you plan to cover for Kawaishi?"

"Suzuran and Housen have a pact of non-aggression," answered Tokio.

"We've been waiting for the day that guy gets out of prison."

"Because of what happened two years ago?" Tamao asked. Hana didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed that he still looked bored.

"He's just a murderer." Hana's eyes dropped to the man on the ground. He didn't look like a murderer, but what did she know about murderers? Still, the accusation put a burden on him, and he stood as the ridicule continued. "He was expelled from Suzuran so you have nothing to do with this."

"You're not the one to decide that," Tamao replied curtly. "I am."

"Serizawa." It was then that Hana realized this nemesis, Serizawa, was Tamao. Serizawa Tamao. "If you've decided to step into this situation, we're gonna have to deal with you also."

"Hey, you idiots." Now another set of guys joined in the growing circle. Hana was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the increasing level of pigheaded testosterone closing in around her.

"Genji," spoke Tokio.

"Hey bastard, get out of here," the enemy leader ordered.

"What the hell is going on here?" Genji asked. There was some similarity between him and Tamao, particularly in their distinct look of boredom. But his was somewhat different. Tamao's look was cold and entirely unreadable. This guy looked like he could be easily goaded into action, an observation that didn't sit well at the moment.

"This has nothing to do with you," Tamao replied. For the first time, he seemed a little concerned by the intrusion. Only a little, and only for a moment.

Genji glanced at him briefly and clearly held back a smirk. "Stop acting cool, you hobo."

Hana had to bit her lip not to laugh. She hadn't paid too much attention to Tamao's appearance because of her greater interest in getting her money. But now that she looked at him, he was a bit shabby around the edges: long unkempt hair, a scruffy beard reaching up into his hairline as well as over his lips, his lack of shoes; a bummy old shirt.

Nevertheless, there was something equally appealing. His eyes were perfectly shaped and matched to his naturally arched eyebrows. His nose was just the right length, though it leaned just a little to the right—no doubt from various fights. He carried himself well for his height, despite his ruggedness, and his jaw line angled his face in the just the right way to make his neck stretch nicely between head and chest. Then his lips—

Hana blinked and shifted a little closer. Yes, they were perfect, too. Not pouty, but sensually protruding with a reddish-pink tint and nice curve. For a hobo, he was ridiculously perfect.

"You shouldn't be calling the head of Suzuran a hobo," the bushy-haired enemy interrupted her thoughts.

Genji looked at him and threw down his cigarette. Then in seconds, he landed a punch across the man's face then a kick to the gut, and, as the enemy went down, a blonde enemy stepped in to take revenge, but Genji blocked and punched his face too. Hana jumped back instinctively, especially when the fleet of adversaries tried to advance, but Tokio restrained Genji the same time the enemy leader blocked his own troops. The hysterics ended just as quickly as they erupted, and that was when she saw it.

Tamao looked panicked. Not frightened but shocked and concerned about whatever passed through his mind. She couldn't blame him; her own thoughts were a little chaotic at the moment.

The ugly leader turned slowly, a malicious grin across his unattractive face. Subconsciously, she took the final step forward and clutched Tamao's hand, somewhat hiding part of her body behind his sturdy one. He didn't push her away; his mind was focused on the guys in front of them.

"Are you also from Suzuran?"

"Takiya Genji," Genji replied, pushing himself free of Tokio.

"He's the head of Suzuran," one of Genji's goons added. He was not especially attractive either, particularly standing by Tokio and Genji. To be frank, he reminded her of Kuwabara from Yu-Yu-Hakusho. "_Don't you forget it_!"

The ugly enemy's face dropped a moment then tweaked back into malcontent. "Serizawa! This guy just broke the non-aggression pact. So that means Housen and Suzuran are going to war once again, doesn't it?"

"This concerns me and not some war," answered Tamao firmly.

"But since the head of Suzuran started it, we can't just let this go."

Genji slung off Tokio again and proceeded forward. "Fine by me."

"Stop it, Genji!" Tokio and another of Genji's group restrained him instantly. Hana got the impression this sort of impulsiveness wasn't out of character.

"Kawaishi Noburu!" the ugly enemy shouted over the tension. "We'll let you off just for today." Then he turned and walked away. "Let's go."

"Hey baldies!" summoned one of Tamao's twins. "Say hi to your mothers for me!"

Tamao turned away from the retreating enemies and met Hana's blank stare. He glanced at her hand around his then back at her. She dropped it immediately and stepped away. His focus altered instantly to the man behind her. "Long time no see. When did you get out?"

"Don't worry," Kawaishi replied. He didn't make eye contact with them as he walked in the opposite direction of the adversaries.

His departure was a sudden release from this other world, and Hana remembered her camera. She ran across the street and collapsed in front of the mangled pieces. It was ruined. Even if there had been any chance of fixing it before, there was no possible way now. It had been trampled into at least eight different bigger pieces with fragments scattered across the pavement. She retrieved her bag solemnly and carefully placed the parts inside. Her vision was obliterated.

And those bastards didn't even notice.

Hana zipped her bag shut, jumped up, and stomped after Housen. "Freaking jerk-offs," she mumbled darkly under her breath. "This isn't over yet."

It didn't take long to catch up to the entourage of white-clad baldies. They were much less menacing from behind, which might explain why she had the courage to pull her bag back and swing it full-force against the back of one of their heads. Her victim fell flat on his face but quickly jumped up and glared furiously at her. "You bitch!"

"I'm not through with you guys yet," she hissed.

Three men readied to jump her but were stopped by a hand on of their shoulders. It was the ugly one. "Oie, what's goin on back here?"

"You assholes talk pretty tough, but if that's all you're good for, you've met your match here."

He raised a confused eyebrow then slowly grinned. "You're that girl with Serizawa."

Hana tried not to let the comment make her any angrier than she already was but couldn't hold back the irritated set of her jaw. "Apologize."

He scoffed. "For what?"

She held up her bag then slammed it down on the ground. "You bald freaks trampled by camera. Apologize."

"What's in your head, huh? Do you have any idea who we are?"

"Apologize."

His smirk diminished. "You'd better get out of here while you still can, little girl."

"Apologize!"

"Would you shut up already?"

"_Apologize_!"

"You piece'a—"

"Oie." Hana and the ugly guy were inches apart, fists clutched and faces glaring, but they both diverted curiously at the new voice. It was another guy in white, and Hana knew immediately he was their true leader. He carried himself a certain way. His shoulder-length black hair was parted down the center and sat flatly on his head, but if one focused solely on his face, he was handsome: a nicely shaped face, a confident air, a well-trimmed goatee, and eyes that stared straight through a person's flesh.

He walked up and kept his eyes on the ugly guy. "Matoba." The ugly guy averted his gaze then stepped back, and the newcomer looked at her. "What's this about?"

Hana snatched her bag up from the ground and thrust it at him. "Your goons destroyed my camera. I want an apology."

He took the bag from her and checked the contents. "I guess so." He tossed the bag back to her. "Gomen. My guys were a little preoccupied—"

"Not you," she interrupted. Her eyes snapped to Matoba. "Him. And the rest of the yin monks."

He didn't respond at first, but Hana returned her glare to him. Finally, he smirked. "Matoba, apologize."

Matoba gawked. "What?" The leader's head turned swiftly to the opposition, and Matoba pressed his lips angrily together. He motioned his hand behind him, and, as he bowed, the group of guys behind him did the same. "Gomen."

Hana wasn't appeased. She still didn't have her camera, and a nagging necessity to kick Matoba's gold tooth out of his mouth tugged at her muscles. But it would have to do. She shouldered her bag and bowed her head just slightly. Her eyes never left the displeased mob. "Good."

The leader gave Matoba another look, and the group turned to leave. "You're with Serizawa?"

Hana snapped her head up. "Iie! He's just as big an asshole as your army here!"

The answer made him smile. "Good." He followed behind his men but stopped after only a few steps. "What's your name?"

She didn't like the way he looked at her. That gaze of his could penetrate steel. "Y-Yamada Hana."

"Hana." He threw his chin up amusingly and continued onward. "I'm Narumi Taiga. Stay out of the road next time if you don't want to get hurt."

It wasn't a threat. It was a certainty.

* * *

That night, a desk lamp glimmered begrudgingly into the late hours of moonlight as Hana squinted at the piece of broken camera in her hand. The rest of the butchered pieces lay askew atop the cluttered desk, but a small place had been cleared to closely scrutinize the chunk at hand. Slowly, she pulled a flat, rectangular, blue piece of plastic from the fray. "At last."

With a sweep of her arm, she brushed the remaining black chunks off her desk and into the garbage can waiting on the floor. She didn't bother checking if it all made it as she checked both sides of the plastic between her fingers then slipped it into a tiny slot on the side of her laptop.

"Isn't it late for web browsing, Hana-chan?" Hana did not need to look up to know it was her best friend, Hamasaki Jun. They were in the same first year of university but had known each other since grade school. He couldn't sneak up on her even if Hell _had_ frozen over. "Wah! Is that your camera?" He crouched down in front of the trash bin and gawked. "Whoa! What happened?"

Hana kept from snarling but couldn't keep her lip from curling. "An asshole."

Jun was silent only half a millisecond. "What did you do?" Her foot kicked him backwards onto his butt.

The computer screen flickered with life, and, after a few mouse clicks, she smiled. "Still here."

"What's still here?" Jun righted himself and hunched over her shoulder. "Wah!" He thrust his finger at the screen and gawked. "Why were you around these guys? Don't you realize where they're from?"

"Suzuran," she replied simply then looked at the ceiling curiously. "It sounded familiar, but I couldn't really remember where I'd heard it."

"Suzuran's the school that beat the shit out of Hideaki and put him in the hospital for three months!"

She continued to stare absently at the wall, but finally realization settled in, and her face dropped. "Hideaki?"

_Hana laughed and pushed Jun playfully as they came home from night class. Turning the corner, however, he stopped her, and they gawked at the body lying in the poorly-lit alley. It was battered; bruised, bleeding, and broken in ripped clothes with hair tossed into a face so swollen it was barely recognizable._

_Barely._

"_Hideaki-sama!" Jun shouted but didn't step forward. At the end of the alley was another body, only this one stood upright. Dressed in a black school uniform and illuminated only by the cigarette between his lips, he never looked more menacing. And from the fire glow, darkened crimson spots splotched his face and knuckles._

_Hana started to approach Hideaki, more concerned for the man on the ground than the one across the alley, but Jun grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. "W-Who are you?" he stuttered nervously._

_The mystery guy smirked and threw his cigarette onto the ground. "Suzuran High School. Kawaishi Noburu."_

Hana bit her lip. "Kawaishi…?"

"_He's just a murderer."_

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth with a hiss. No wonder her instincts recognized him so quickly.

Jun shook his head and leaned on the desk to get a closer look at the pictures. "Well, at least you only took pictures of them. They'll probably forget about you by tomorrow, if they noticed you at all."

Hana opened her eyes and stared at the screen in a grimace. "Uh."

Jun glanced at her then frowned. "You _did_ just take pictures, right?"

She averted her gaze a moment then whipped on him. "They broke my camera! How can you expect me not to say anything?"

"Hana!" Jun grabbed her around the throat and shook her wildly. "Is that camera worth your life? What if they come to the apartment and try to kill us all? _My_ life is more important than your God damn cameraaaa!"

Hana wrestled his arms away then smacked him upside the head. "Calm down, you're overreacting!" She rubbed her throat where his hands had been and returned to the screen. "They're not gonna do anything. Besides, there're more important things to worry about."

Jun nodded and glanced at the pictures again. "Right, the contest. What're you gonna do? Your piece has to be submitted by the end of the month."

Was could she do? There was no way she could count on Serizawa Tamao to give her the money, and even if she did manage to come up with it some other way, there simply wouldn't be enough time to find the perfect moment.

She smiled sweetly at Jun. "How much do you love me, Junaki-senpai?"

Jun blinked then glared. "Not at all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Yakuza are generally annoyed by the term 'violence group,' since violence can apply to any crime, but it's no surprise they've been termed such when they engage in things like blackmail, extortion, fraud to murder, et cetera. Yakuza leadership is run in a hierarchical order, and the organization demands complete and total devotion from all its members—initiations require incoming members to cut off their little finger to show their dedication. In 2005, there were over 86,000 known members of the Yakuza organization."

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…" The class giggled and snickered as Hana lay sprawled over her arms, mouth slightly ajar while her snore filled the air.

The teacher sighed and turned his head robotically toward her window seat. "Yamada-chan."

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzz…"

He stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles, and patted Hana's head. "_Yamada-chan._"

Hana blinked sleepily and lifted her head enough to make eye contact. His face was wide and square, but even in his mid-forties he could still pull off a handsome stare beneath his ruffled light brown locks. He had a certain swagger about him, and most of the students liked it, which was why so many signed up for his class. She smiled despite his dark look. "Sensei?"

"If you're going to sleep, Yamada-chan, maybe you should stop coming to class and stay in bed."

"Don't be silly, sensei. If I miss too many classes, I'll get kicked out." She smiled goofily and laid her head back down. "But I have to get at least six hours of sleep; otherwise I'll doze off in my photography and film class. Sorry, Takaguchi-sensei, but it's an absolute must—"

Suddenly, Hana felt claw-like fingers clasped firmly around her neck, and he shook her rapidly back and forth. "_Then get your sleep at home and not in the damn classrooooom_! Do you think I'm just going to put up with this every day? _HUH_?"

"Can't—breathe—"

"Just a little asphyxiation to help you sleep, you damn slacker!"

* * *

Hana rubbed absently at her neck as she walked campus. Way for Takaguchi to overreact. It wasn't like she disrupted anything important. Why did they honestly need to know anything about Yakuza? Was the school planning to recruit for the Yaks after graduation? No? Then who gave a shit? She pouted her lip and continued massaging. "Yarō," she mumbled under her breath.

"Well, well, well," a voice weaved through the air straight into Hana's spine, stopping her dead. The speaker was a fellow freshman girl dressed to kill in hip-hugger jeans and black pumps. Her long, dyed, dirty blonde hair hung in curls over her shoulders and down her slender back. She approached the immobile Hana with a sly grin. "If it isn't the infamous Sleeping Beauty."

Hana's fingers subconsciously coiled into fists, but she somehow kept her voice even. "Asako-chan."

Asako placed her hands strategically on her curvy hips. Everything she did, she did like she posed for a camera. "I heard you still haven't submitted your piece for the competition. Not getting cold feet, are you?"

Hana forced a smile. "Perfection takes time."

Asako lifted her eyebrows sarcastically. "Are you photoshopping?" Two girls flanking her laughed, but, though their reaction made her smile victoriously, it was apparent she didn't need their reinforcement to feel triumphant. Hana didn't respond.

"Let me make things clear for you, Hana-chan. Suffer no delusions, I _will_ win this competition, and when my work is displayed in the gallery, I'll have my father make certain that your work is never seen again." She titled her head sweetly. "Ever."

Hana returned the pleasant façade. "How? Is he going to gauge everyone's eyes out?"

Asako's smile dropped, but her attitude didn't. "You're out of your league, reject. When I'm done with you, you won't even want to hold a camera again."

"Good thing, too." Hana shook her head and openly looked Asako over. "If I took a picture of the scenery right now, it might make small children cry."

"Funny."

Hana lifted her eyebrows. "I wasn't being funny." She turned and walked away as Asako gawked, but there was one more thing that needed to be done. Never stopping her pace, she turned back. "Asako!" Asako glared. "Good luck in the competition." She deliberately grinned, but, as she turned, it dropped immediately.

She was in very—serious—trouble.

* * *

For some reason she had not yet been able to identify, no one was available to give her a camera on short-term loan. Maybe she shouldn't say she had _no_ ideas. Word spread fast in certain branches, and no doubt the demise of her camera hadn't escaped the great Chain of Distorted Knowledge. Whatever the reason for the suddenly scarce population of decent cameras, her problem still remained. So, there was really no other alternative.

She practically stomped down the sidewalk that afternoon in a determined frenzy. There had to be some way to coerce him, but how? Maybe she could try to blackmail him. Then again, she had no protection if he decided to shut her up. No way would one of his friends turn on him, and she doubted she could best any of them. Maybe more civil means would accomplish her goal? Perhaps sweet talk might work. Nah, not likely after her yammering yesterday. The key to a man's heart was through his stomach, so they said, but Tamao didn't seem the sort to be so easily swindled. She could be flirtatious if she wanted.

The thought made her cringe. She didn't want to, not if it was for superficial reasons, but there had to be _some_ way to convince him.

Hana looked up in time to sidestep after nearly colliding with someone. She stopped and watched him continue down the sidewalk then slowly pointed. "Takiya Genji?" He stopped and turned on her, and she beamed. "Oo, it is you! Remember me from yesterday?"

He stared at her for several seconds then nodded. "Serizawa's girl."

She glared and barked, "I'm not his girl."

Genji shrugged and looked away. "Oh."

The hostility vanished, and Hana gave an apologetic smile. "Have you seen Serizawa? I need to talk to him."

He nodded and motioned his arm behind her. "He's at the station." Then he left.

Hana's smile widened, and she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Takiya Genji! You're pretty cute when you're not so angry!" He just waved once without slowing, but she grinned and continued on her way.

Genji was right, not that she really doubted him. Tamao was at the rundown gas station practicing with a huge homemade throwing dart while Tokio stood off to the side, his back to her, and provided humorous commentary. Hana watched Tamao aim and hurl the spear-like piece across the station into the equally homemade dartboard.

Maybe it wasn't so bad being misunderstood as his girl. He was handsome, in an extremely uncouth sort of way, and his look could easily silence any opposition from her growing collage of schemers. It was true hers could hardly be compared to Housen waging war on Suzuran, but she wasn't without her enemies. Many people didn't want to see her succeed, and some had gone to great lengths to make her progress difficult. With someone like Tamao on her side, even if it was just in gossip, many of her adversaries would be dissuaded from picking further quarrels.

But, Tamao was too complicated to use for petty drama.

All the same, no matter how complicated or how handsome, she wouldn't seek fame but _would_ seek justice. So, straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin. "_SERIZAWA TAMAO_!"

If she didn't know better, she would swear his hair stood up on the back of his neck as he slowly turned toward her. He certainly looked some brand of freaked, and the thought made her smirk as she stomped forward.

"Hana-chan." Tokio smiled nervously and tried to head her off. "What're you—"

"Tokio," she interrupted curtly and held up a silencing finger. "Do us a favor: stand there and keep your mouth shut." She smiled robotically and stopped in front of Tamao, who reverted back to his stony boredom. "Don't waste my time, Serizawa. You know why I'm here."

Tamao shrugged. "Lack of a better idea?"

"I have no patience for your antics, and you're not cute, Serizawa." Actually, he was. Too much so. If he wasn't such an ass, he might be completely irresistible. "I need the money and I need it now." She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers in an expectant manner.

Tamao looked down at her palm then back at her. "You expect me to have eight hundred dollars in my pocket or something?"

"Tokio said you would pay me the money, so cough it up."

"Actually—" started Tokio.

"Tokio," she hissed and shot him a dirty look. "Silence is the key, remember?" Her eyes snapped back to Tamao. "I'm running out of time, yankee, and quite frankly I don't want to waste it on you. Just give me what you owe and stop this runaround. Do you really want me harassing you every day?"

Tamao frowned. "Hm. I see your point."

She tried not to glare further. "Good. Then you also see my necessity for the money. Give it to me."

He shrugged. "I don't have it."

Hana dropped her hand and pressed her tongue against the top of her mouth. Didn't have it? Was anything gonna go her way? "_Fine_," she replied through tight lips. "I'll make you a deal. I need that money now, but since eight hundred isn't pocket change, we'll split it. I'll come up with a way to make half, and you work on the rest. You can pay me back for the second part later, but I need the camera asap."

"And how do you expect either of us to come up with four hundred dollars in…?"

"Two weeks."

He scoffed. "Two weeks. Would you like me to pull it out of a magic hat?"

"I don't care how you get it, just get it, asshole!" Hana withheld a snarl but couldn't hold back shouldering him out of her way. "And I'll be back every damn day to make sure you're not slacking!"

* * *

How indeed was she going to come up with her half? A job was ideal, but there were guidelines. Her school schedule dictated her free time, so the job had to be flexible. She only wanted to work long enough to make the money and no longer; the employer had to be used to short-term commitment. Lastly, and most importantly, it had to pay well and fast. Where else would she come up with heavy cash in such a short amount of time?

Maybe she should have stayed resolute in her demand. But, she didn't really want to irritate him. From her long line of dealing with difficult, uncooperative people, it never served to irritate them beyond manipulation. On the other hand, she couldn't very well let the entire thing slide. If he didn't account for at least half of the payment, now that she knew his name, she could threaten him with legal action. Even if he was a thug or whatever, eventually he'd be caught if he tried shutting her up.

Though she was certain he'd never try that route. He was an ass, but other qualities were noticeable. Hana learned years ago to capture hidden secrets with her camera, but she was equally skilled at finding them with her own eyes. He may be short, but his broad shoulders and focused center of gravity no doubt made him formidable. And his physique wasn't without its leanness. That gaze of his could silence generals and command armies without question.

He was dangerous, if he wanted to be.

He often kept his hands open and barely touched things beyond his fingertips. The power behind them remained lightly harnessed, ready when he needed it but not seeking an opportunity to prove itself; it could be constructive as well as destructive. That scruffy shadow around his mouth, a perfectly sweet and powerfully set mouth, drew out those intense eyes. She had never seen a kind manner of softness, but his single moment of distress at Genji's interference showed her all she needed to know how very tender they could be. If the eyes could be tender, so could the man.

Hana crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the sky. How could a man so obviously destructive give her such uncontrollably comfortable feelings? She was still concerned about what might happen if she pushed too far, but it felt more like a fear of the unknown than fear of him.

"Oie!"

Hana broke from her reverie just in time to run face-first into a signboard. She recoiled from the impact and cupped her face embarrassedly. "Son of a—_OW_!"

"Are you okay?" A short, portly man scurried out of a building over to her. "Are you hurt? Let me see!" He forced her hands down and inspected her tender nose. "It doesn't look broken. We should put some ice on it anyway just to be sure. Come inside."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose sourly and glared at the offending sign. Then blinked. "'Ginkō's'?" She grinned. "Cha-ching."

* * *

Tonight was her first night. She had never worked in a bar before, but the owner said she'd be a natural in no time if she was light on her feet and quick-witted. She liked to think she possessed both of those qualities, at least well enough to make a profit. He gave her enough time to go home and wash up, change, maybe get a small meal, but then come right back.

How did a bar waitress dress? She never actually spent any time in a bar, but it couldn't be that difficult. Playing it safe might be best. Hmm, but then she needed money fast, and good tips needed a little extra effort.

Hana decided on some hip-hugger jeans and a cream, sleeveless blouse with a daring but not immodest neckline. She chose flat-heeled black boots instead of risqué heels. No job was worth that sort of pain. Clean and dressed, she quickly fixed her short, dark caramel hair to swing fashionably but comfortably around her face, intensifying her black eyeliner and light yet sensual makeup. Not bad, if she did say so herself, looking her reflection down in the mirror. "Fight!"

The boss was glad to see her by the time she came back. A flood of clientele swamped in during her absence, and his other waitress called in sick. It was a night for a crash course.

Altogether, she felt she did pretty well. Sometimes she confused the drinks but managed to get through without spilling anything or landing in a catastrophe. She did accidently clock the bartender with her serving pan, but he was a big guy and took the blow good-naturedly. The crowd kept growing as the night got later, and she also noticed a younger crowd began filtering in.

Amongst them, dressed in a familiar, tattered shirt and shorts, was Serizawa Tamao. He entered amidst a frenzy of ordering but caught sight of her only a second after she saw him. She stood rooted on the spot, waiting for drinks, and he stood silently for a few moments. Then he turned slightly and followed his friends to a pool table.

It was a little embarrassing to be caught by him. He probably knew she wasn't a regular employee here; putting the pieces together wouldn't be hard. But she needed the money, so, stuffing her pride into a dark corner, she delivered the drinks then walked over. "Can I get you guys anything?"

The guys with him were the same from the gas station. Great, a further humiliation. "You're the camera girl!" one of the twins grinned. "What're you doing here?"

"And looking so sexy," the other added as he circled her teasingly.

Hana couldn't subdue a blush but squared her jaw. "We're busy tonight. Can I get you something or not?"

Tamao leaned on his pool stick but didn't look at her. "This is how you're comin up with your half?"

She scrunched her nose in a half-snarl. "That's none of your business. I should be asking you what _you're_ doing?" The other guys apparently decided to bow out of the conversation because they all started playing and talking without looking at either of them anymore.

He shrugged. "Are you sure you're cut out for this kinda work? Aren't you from a better part of town than us yankees?"

She didn't like the way he condescended her own accusation. "I can take care of myself. What's it to you? If you'd just give me the eight hundred you owe, I wouldn't have to be here."

"Isn't it against school policy for students to have this kinda job?"

"I'm a college student, I can work wherever I want."

He glanced briefly at her then smirked. "You look decent for an old lady."

Hana stomped her foot. "Oie! I graduated a year early! We're the same age, asshole! Though I doubt we'd be in the same grade even if I hadn't. How did an idiot like you even manage to get into high school?"

"Oie." Tokio interceded now. "Hana-chan, you shouldn't talk about people you don't know anything about."

"What don't I know?" She threw her chin at Tamao but kept Tokio's warning stare. "He destroys private property without asking any questions then refuses to take responsibility for his misconceptions and overreactions. Then he has the balls to insinuate I'm a prudish old woman who can't work a real job? He's the one who doesn't know anything about me, except that I don't tolerate assholes, and if you don't like it, Tatsukawa Tokio, I can ride your ass for his four hundred instead!"

Tamao walked around the table and used his superior physique to back her away from them. He made his shot then straightened. "You shouldn't work here. This sorta place doesn't suit you."

Hana pouted her lip. "I told you, I need the money, and you can't be depended on. I have no choice." She swung around to leave. "If you aren't ordering anything—"

Tamao grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. He kept his eyes on the game but didn't release her. "I'll pay you back for the camera, so quit working here."

She frowned. "Dōshite?"

"Because I said," he replied curtly and released her for another shot.

Hana scoffed. "Nice try, but I'm not that gullible." And she stormed away from them.

He was so infuriating sometimes! Why did all Suzuran students have to be such bastards? Most especially the ones she had to deal with. But her anger was temporarily retracted when an arm slid around her waist and pulled her down into an expecting lap. She blinked up at the grinning middle-aged drunk then swung her arms furiously. "Let go of me!"

"Just one kiss, pretty girl!" He smooched his lips at her and fought her down, drawing closer. "Just one kiss!"

"No!" She slapped at him, but his hold was too strong. "_Let go of me_!"

The man's head flew back suddenly, and a third arm snaked around her then yanked her free and up against the solid, protective wall of Tamao's body. She clutched his shirt instinctively and pressed herself into the curve of his physique. His arm encompassed her waist, and he glared down at the man. "Keep your hands off my girl."

The man raised his hands defensively. "H-Hey, I didn't realize she was spoken for. Sorry man, let's just call it good from here, huh?"

"Get out."

"Yeah, right, I'm goin!" He stumbled over the furniture, scurried across the room, and tripped out the door.

Tamao turned his head to Hana, who stared at the man's exit silently. "See? You should just quit this job already. Guys like that are gonna bother you all day, every day." He dropped his arm away from her and slipped his hands into his pockets. She didn't relinquish him, or even weaken her hold. People stared, even his own crew, but her grip remained firm. "You're not really my girl, baka. Let go," he barked lowly at her.

She jolted and stepped away, only then realizing that she still clung to him. She cleared her throat and turned away. "I-I have to get back to work." This time, he didn't stop her.

* * *

Hana flopped down on her bed and stared nervously up at the ceiling. Her heart still raced—it all happened so fast! She opened her hand and stared at her palm. She could still feel that tattered shirt on her fingers; the smell of him lightly scented her skin. The imprint of his body aligned with hers left invisible marks against her. And she wanted to feel more.

Hana shook her head and dropped her hand back on her chest. The pervert didn't frighten her as much as she thought. The shock caused her to act rashly, but it didn't take long to adapt. She wished Tamao had still been there later when another man made an attempt. Her handprint would tattoo his face for the rest of the week, she was certain.

She turned over and cuddled against her pillow. Curling her body intensified the smell of him. How she longed to have his there rather than just his scent. Her hand clutched her shirt. At that moment, every part of her wanted him.

Serizawa Tamao.

* * *

"The Yakuza have been around since the early reaches of Japan's history, but their exact origins are unclear. It's assumed, of course, they began as a series of other underhanded branches that eventually revolutionized into the modern-day Yakuza. Does anyone know the three primary branches of the Edo period believed to be the spawns of the Yakuza?" Takaguchi scanned the raised hands. "Yamada-chan."

Hana blinked slowly out of her reverie then turned away from the window. "Hai?"

"Can you name the three forms of crime?"

She glanced sideways at Jun, who pressed his eyes into his palm, and then nodded. "Hai. Tekiya, bakuto, and baka."

"Better known as…?"

"Peddlers, gamblers, and assassins. Tekiya started out as somewhat lowly, but in the modern day they're the business aspect. Unfortunately for the Yakuza, they're most commonly identified by their bakuto background. Operating a business sounds legitimate at least. No one can recognize gambling as a class act. Even gangs today may identify themselves accordingly with their primary income, be it business or gambling. Or, of course, assassination."

Takaguchi stared silently. He didn't look shocked but suspicious as everyone else stared in surprise. "Correct, Yamada-chan. Seems you learn a great deal in those daydreams." The class laughed, and she smiled as well, though not without a minor blush. "Aside from the Yakuza directly, what are common subsidiary identities of Yakuza?"

"Yankees!" shouted a student excitedly, and the class laughed again.

"And the _bōsōzoku_," Jun added slyly.

Hana frowned and spaced out for another moment before realizing Takaguchi still watched her. She ducked her head then looked back out the window.

* * *

"Yamada-chan." Hana stopped halfway to the door and turned. "Could you stay for just a sec? I wanna talk to you."

She waved Jun away and stood beside Takaguchi's desk. "Sensei?"

He set his glasses on his desk, massaged his weary eyes, and leaned against the drawer. "Impressive work today. I never expected you of all people to suddenly know so much about something you care so little about."

Hana shifted. "I need to make the grade, right?"

He shook his head. "Not really. This class isn't important for you other than filling in a credit you ultimately don't need. It might drop your GPA a little, but you're not close to failing, so the extra effort isn't necessary. Which makes me curious, Yamada-chan, why you've taken a sudden interest?"

She hesitated then checked to make sure no one still lingered and leaned in. "I'm going to use yankees as my subjects for the competition."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Yankees? Dōshite?"

She stuck her lips out pensively. "Well, it's like you said. Yankees are thrown in with Yakuza all the time, and for good reason, but they can hardly be compared. From my experience, yankees are vigilantes with a subjective moral code. Yakuza are much more strict and underhanded. I'd like to show the differentiation—capture the rare spirit of young yankees that Yakuza lose upon initiation. Or die shortly thereafter."

Takaguchi shook his head. "But being around yankees is still dangerous. I really must insist—"

She clapped her hands together and ducked her head. "Please keep this a secret, sensei! This is very important to me!"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You really feel adamantly about it?"

She looked up and nodded firmly. "Hai."

He paused then shrugged. "Oo. But be careful."

Hana beamed and bowed repeatedly. "Arigatō, sensei! Arigatō!" She hurried toward the door, but he called her back again. She blinked curiously at him.

"I'm taking a big risk by letting this slide. You'd better win this competition. Got it?"

She gave a thumbs-up and winked. "It's in the bag, Takaguchi-sensei." And she raced off for her next class.

* * *

THUMP…

THUMP…

THUMP…

The bartender watched Hana's drumming fingers on the bar as he wiped down glasses late that night. She watched the door silently, her chin in her palm as the other rapped consistently on the hardwood. She had barely moved from the barstool in the last hour.

"Oie, Hana-chan."

She sighed. "Nani?"

He leaned on the bar and smiled. "I don't think he's coming tonight."

She stopped drumming and slowly trailed her eyes to him. "Nani?"

He laughed and wiped down the bar. "Serizawa Tamao. He can't bar hop every day, ya know."

Hana pouted at his amused face. "Oie, Tenjo-sama. Don't be so presumptuous. I wasn't waiting for him."

He chuckled again and pushed her elbow off the bar. "Of course you weren't." He tossed the rag at her and headed for the door. "Wipe down the tables. I'll be back in a sec to help you put up the chairs."

"Hai." She folded the dirty cloth in her lap and stared at it. The smudges resembled the stubbles on his obnoxious face. Damn him. She jumped off the stool and threw the rag onto the nearest table. "Baka. Didn't even care if I came back to work or not." But then, why did she care if he cared?

* * *

Why did she even ask? She knew exactly why she cared. A guy that good looking, who wouldn't care? But it really was ridiculous. She was a photographer; good looks came and went every day. Why did his make such an irresistible impression? He wasn't even well kempt. Grungy, even! Not at all respectable or charming.

But dark and seductive.

Hana shook her head then lightly slapped her cheeks. "Clear your mind, Hana-chan. Clear. Your. Mind."

"All right! Should we do it now?"

"Nani?"

Hana's ears perked at the voices. One was from those Yankee twins, she just knew it. But why would they be out on her campus? It was dark, but not dark enough to get that los—

She stopped and stared around at her surroundings. Oh. _She_ was the lost one. How did she end up at the gas station? Were her thoughts corrupting her body as well? She gasped at the thought and clutched tightly at her clothes. "What if I'm becoming a pervert too?" she hissed lowly.

"We're going to join with GPS," the twin spoke again. Her ears perked once more, and she crept through the darkness for a better look.

"What the hell are you talking about?" braids asked, stunned.

"Like I said," the twin inserted firmly. "We're gonna join with GPS."

"Oie." The mean one closed in on them now. She didn't know for sure he was mean, but he looked a lot meaner than the rest—menacing even. "What the fuck are you thinking?"

"We lost," the other twin replied. "So we don't want to be a part of the losing team anymore."

"What the hell did you say, you bastard?" The mean one grabbed a fist full of his shirt. For the briefest of moments, Hana's muscles lurched forward.

"Tokaji!" Tamao watched from the lighted area across from Tokio. "Let them do what they want."

She stopped. Tokaji released the twin yet continued watching darkly. But not Tamao. He went back to fiddling with whatever, like he was only letting his dogs out for a run. He wasn't angry at all. It was almost—she nearly laughed—_sweet_.

"Sorry," the first twin started again, undeterred by the confrontation from Tokaji, "but now we're going to follow Genji." They walked idly over to Tamao and Tokio, smiles still bright. "Tokio-kun, get up." Tokio looked confused. "Oh come on, get up!" He stood curiously, and the twin took his hand. Something smacked into it, and he sealed Tokio's fingers over it.

"It's the super-fast, super-healing super-glue!" the twins rooted together. Tokio's confusion still lingered, and the second twin patted his chest. "Get well soon."

Hana smiled. "Kawaii." Even better, as she watched the two draw closer, she saw something most unusual. Tamao smiled too.

This was what she wanted captured on camera. This unspoken friendship that knew no loyalties, only existence. The twins were changing sides from Tamao to Genji, whatever that entailed she didn't fully know, but their respect lay with the members of Serizawa Faction. They were bonded together, no matter what boss they served. Honor—no, softer and stronger still—_friendship_, would never allow otherwise. That was the type of team Tamao led.

"Oo!" She jumped and only then realized she hadn't hid when the twins passed. The first one grinned. "Camera lady! Hana-chan!"

Hana bowed. "Konbanwa."

The second twin turned. "Serizawa-kun! Your girlfriend's here!"

"Huh?" Her cheeks flushed, and she started backing away. "I-I'm not—"

"Don't be shy!" The first twin grabbed her arm and positioned her in the center of the light. "She's come to check up on you, Serizawa-kun. I'm so envious."

"That's right." The second twin came up beside her and grinned at her reddening face. "I'd love for a cute girl to come and check on my welfare."

Hana bit her lower lip then swung her arm free of the twin, forcing his release. "I thought you guys were leaving?"

"Ohhhh," he chuckled. "She wants Serizawa all to herself."

She refused to be bated further and raised her chin. "Well? Why are you still here?"

"Hah!" the first twin clapped his hands. "It's true! We should leave the lovebirds alone then, eh?" He swung his arm over his brother's shoulder and ushered him on.

Hana watched them leave, forcing her blush under control, and then faced the remaining men. "Serizawa, can I talk to you for a second?"

Tokaji and Braids exchanged a slightly playful glance, and Tokio grinned into the light. So much for controlling the blush, but Tamao nodded. "Oo." He followed her out of the light and into its shadow.

She looked down the dark road. "It doesn't bother you they're joining up with Genji?"

He watched her. "Can't force loyalty."

She nodded. "I guess so, but I don't think their loyalty for you has really diminished. If you called, they'd come." She faced him, and his stare practically speared her heart right out of her chest. What kind of effect was this on someone? Why did it have to be his effect on her? "Housen's been pretty quiet. Aren't you worried?"

His gaze never faltered. "Why're you here?"

Hana cleared her throat nervously. "I uh, was coming home from work. I spaced out and guess I ended up taking a wrong turn. I just heard those guys talking."

He smirked. "Go and Manabu can't keep anything quiet."

"I see." She looked at their exit again. Go and Manabu. They seemed like nice guys behind that ridiculous yankee-_bōsōzoku_ trend. "I like them."

"Aren't they too stupid for your list?"

Again, the condescension. "You don't know anything about my friends, Serizawa!"

He sighed and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, and smoked away his boredom. "What did you wanna talk about? Money again?"

"You do owe me eight hundred."

"And I told you, I don't have that kinda money. I'm a high school student still, old lady. How could I get a well-paying job during my free time?"

"Oie! I'm a student too, ya know! My education is more important than yours, in fact! College isn't a cakewalk like high school, and it sure as hell isn't cheaper. If I can find time to make my share, you should make time to get yours!"

"What do I care about your money?"

She grabbed a handful of his shirt before her mind could warn her otherwise. "I've already told you, I need that money!"

He smirked down at her and shook his head. "You're practically begging already. Maybe if you did it a little more politely, you'd get better results."

Hana took a swing at him, but he grabbed her wrist without so much as blinking. He wasn't fast enough, however, to keep her free hand's nails from scratching the skin exposed above his undone top buttons. He ensnared the wrist quickly and held them flat against his chest. She struggled to free herself but to no avail. "Let me go, you asshole!"

"Wouldn't begging be easier?" He tilted his head. "You dress up for a bunch of guys so you can earn an extra buck. You've already given up your pride, so what's the harm in begging?"

"Why do you care how I make my share?"

"Because," he snapped, "I don't like other guys touching you. Or talking to you. Or looking at you. Not guys I don't trust."

Hana's retaliation evaporated instantly, and she gawked up into his serious eyes. Was he jealous? No, not Tamao; jealously was too shallow. Protective then? Whatever it was, it made her blush return full force. But she couldn't give up the fight just yet.

"If you'd just pay me the money, you wouldn't have to see other guys around me." She wrenched free, and he allowed it; there was no other way she could have broken away. "I have to get that money ASAP. I don't have time to fuck around like you guys. My future could be on the line here." She managed a glare despite her blush and stomped off. "And I don't have time for _you_ anymore. I'll get the money myself!"

As she disappeared, Tamao turned back toward the station. Tokio stood just at the edge of the light, eyeing him knowingly. They stared for several seconds before Tamao sighed again, tossed down his cigarette, and walked deeper into the darkness.

* * *

Was she being followed? It sure felt like it. Several times she looked, but no one was visible. It was so dark, though. Nearly back on campus, her fear dissipated somewhat, but she picked up her feet, eager to be rid of the anxiety altogether. She could see her apartment complex just on the edge of the campus; not much further.

"Oh my, what is the great Hana-chan doing out alone at night?"

Hana spun on the voice but was relieved at the sight of Asako—something she never thought possible. "Asako, you scared me. What're you doing out this late?"

"I'll ask you the same question." She swayed closer runway-style and studied her over suspiciously. "What an outfit. Are you trying to win some votes by showing off that mediocre body? Honestly, Hana-chan, you really have no sense of style."

Hana forced a smile. "I wasn't trying to attract trash, Asako-chan."

Asako wasn't trodden but grinned wider. "Really? What kind of people do you try to attract as a bar waitress, Hana-chan?" Hana's coolness slipped, and Asako laughed. "Murai-kun told me he saw you at some bar last night, working as a waitress. What's wrong, country girl? Have the checks stopped coming in?"

Hana glared. "What I do with my free time, most of all my financial affairs, is none of your concern."

"Don't worry. If you really get desperate, you can always beg me for money. If you beg really good, I might just let you use _my_ camera. Since yours didn't meet such a sweet end."

Hana's composure plummeted. How did she know?

"I told you you'd never make it. Bumpkins like you could never overcome the necessary sacrifices to succeed in this business. Eventually, one way or another, you'll always be defeated by the very thing you've worked to escape: poverty. No wonder you haven't submitted your piece yet. I guess that gallery position belongs to me now, doesn't it? Unless," she sneered, "you have some other means of winning? Is bar maid simply practice for the judges?"

The insult struck deep. Hana's anger would recoil in full force, but her pride was too wounded to cover for herself right then. But now was when she really needed that protection.

"Oie."

Her body stiffened, and, for the briefest of moments, her heart ceased to beat. Then an arm came across her back and gripped her shoulder, returning the rhythmic thumps in spades. She turned her head and was stunned to see that handsome, rugged face that matched that authoritative voice. "Serizawa."

"Who're you?" Asako questioned. Her voice maintained just the slightest bit of sass but not enough to offend. She was intrigued by this newcomer, and, judging by the way she looked at him, it was a pleased intrigue.

"Serizawa Tamao. I'm Hana's boyfriend." Hana's eyes blew up like hot air balloons, but his remained forward. Asako was equally stunned. "Don't worry about Hana's piece. I'll be buying her a new camera soon, and she already has her subject. She won't need the extra time to get her tour de force." He smiled politely then looked at Hana. "Right, Hana-chan?"

Hana blinked, shrinking her enlarged stare, and nodded rapidly at Asako. "Hai. It'll be in, for sure."

"So, Asako, is it? Since we're all feeling confident here, why don't we make a wager?" Hana's large eyes snapped to him again, but he looked back at Asako with his friendly smile—a smile she knew was entirely false, though it could easily deceive other eyes.

Asako's ego bolstered at the challenge. "What do I get if I win?"

His answer was simple. "Me. I'll leave Hana for you." Hana's heart sank. The idea was so repulsive, yet he said it so lightly. "I've always had a soft spot for tall women."

Asako's smirk was pleased. "Sounds good to me."

"But if Hana wins," he smirked, "you have to apologize. Publically."

This Asako did _not_ like. Every ounce of confidence and superiority she previously felt vanished in an instant, replaced by a stunned uncertainty. But Hana tugged his sleeve lightly, unnerved by the conversation, and the contact reinstituted her vigilance. "It's a wager."

Tamao smiled again. "Good. We'll see you in two weeks then." He dropped his arm from her shoulders and grabbed her hand. "Let's go, Hana-chan." And he pulled her away.

Hana wanted to check over her shoulder but was certain Asako's fiery stare might burn her eyes outs. It wasn't until they were far out of earshot that she tugged on Tamao's lead. He stopped abruptly and faced her but didn't release her hand. "You shouldn't have done that. Things are bad enough between Asako and me; you really didn't need to add fuel to the fire."

"Oie," he inserted dryly. "I risked a lot there, too. Claiming to be with an old lady, do you know what that could do to my reputation?"

"Nobody _asked_ you to butt in." She didn't want another fight after just leaving one against Asako. A person could only take so much confrontation in one day. "I don't know what your intentions were, but you should've thought first. If you're interested in Asako, couldn't you have left me out of—"

"Don't put me with that flakey Barbie," he snapped. "I didn't do it for me. I did it for you."

"_Me_? I don't even have a camera, and I don't really even have a subject since, oh yeah, 'it's an invasion of privacy to take pictures of people—'"

"'—Without telling them.' That's what I said. So just tell us when you're gonna take pictures." She averted her eyes, and he smirked. "You wanted us to be your subjects for your piece, right? So with our good looks and a new camera, you should find enough skill to win the bet."

Hana glared. "And just where am I gonna get a sufficient camera?"

"I told you I'll take care of it. So quit working at the bar." He released her hand and stepped closer, his argumentative face replaced by a severe one. "If I find out another guy there's touched you, you're dead. Got it?" And he walked past her.

Hana took a steadying breath and spun around. "Oie!" He stopped. She pressed her lips together and clutched her chest. "If you go around claiming I'm your girlfriend again, I might get arrested for pedophilia. Stop boasting lies if you want me around long enough to win."

Tamao turned and smiled at her. A real smile, not one of the superficial or deceptive smiles. Not even one of his dangerous smirks. A sweet, amused smile. "Don't flatter yourself, old lady." Then he was gone.

* * *

Jun choked on his juice and pounded his chest against the reflex. "Are you crazy? You went back there?"

"Of course I did," Hana replied dryly, wiping some of the juice spit off her arm. "Did you honestly think I'd let eight hundred dollars go, just like that?"

"Is that eight hundred really worth our lives? Worth going back there with those thugs and their thug leader?"

"_Yes_," she answered firmly.

Jun was quiet. Quiet for so long in his persistent stare that she looked away uncomfortably. He wasn't fooled. "You _like_ him, don't you?"

Hana snapped incredulous eyes on him but felt her cheeks turn pink. "I do not!"

He rolled his eyes, but amusement touched his lips. "And are you going to quit that job?"

"No! I can't trust him to keep his word! What if I quit and he just laughs at me!" She paused. Tamao, laugh? Not likely. "I'll have to pull my own way for now."

Jun was way too entertained by this whole conversation. "What if he gets mad? Don't you think he'll retaliate?"

"Tamao would never do anything indecent to me."

He grinned. "'Tamao'?"

Hana snarled fiercely at him and lunged up. "I'm going to dress for work!"

As she stomped away, she knew Jun had just as much of a point as she did. She should stay away from all of them, Housen and Suzuran alike. If she had, she wouldn't be in this sinking ship with Asako. How could she risk so much on the determining factor of Serizawa Tamao coughing up eight hundred dollars he didn't have and buying her a camera he knew nothing about? It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Truthfully, however, she believed maybe he just might do something of the sort. The act itself seemed out of his reach, but he gave his word. If she knew anything about him, it was that his word was his life. A poor yankee at war—what else did he have but his word, and all that it entailed?

But she admired that about him.

Hana made good time back to her apartment and quickly showered. Entering her bedroom for an outfit, she pulled the towel from her hair and looked up. Just two steps in, and she stopped.

Her laptop sat closed on her cluttered desk, and, sitting atop it, was eight hundred dollars embodied in the spitting image of her old camera. She didn't bother searching the place for intruders but walked to the desk and touched the beautiful black machine.

The contact made her shiver. "Tamao." He did it. He really did it. After all that she had harassed him, he still kept his word. And for what? To get her to quit a job he didn't like? So he wouldn't have to eat his words toward Asako? Or, perhaps to do the obvious: get her off his back.

She smiled and picked the camera up, practicing shots habitually. "Serizawa Tamao, you're not rid of me just yet." The flash lit the room brilliantly. "Now I've got to beat Asako, so I can keep you all to myself." The image was perfect; as perfect as the act that brought it here. _Because I think I _do_ like you, yankee._

* * *

The bar owner was sad about her sudden resignation. He insisted she would pick up the work fast and that she had already performed quite well in her two days of employment, but she politely declined the persuasion. "It was nice to have met you, Tenjo-sama. I'll come back and visit sometime." She bowed and headed for the door.

"What's the matter?" He leaned against the bar, face lined with a huge grin. "Your boyfriend doesn't like you working here?"

Hana smiled and slowly turned. Her expression made his lips pull up even higher, and she nodded. "No, he doesn't." They pleasantly communicated the silent information then she left after one more bow. She hadn't been employed long enough to really miss the work, but she'd miss Tenjo. He was fun and understanding—the ideal bartender and boss.

Hana stretched her arms wide into the air then closed them around herself, hugging the night. "I'm so happy!" she chirped thoughtlessly. There was an extra spring in her step as she made her way down the street. Tomorrow, she would take her new camera out and capture that perfect piece. Whether it be Tamao or the gas station, she knew she would find it in time and win the competition.

She didn't really care about getting vengeance on Asako anymore. All she really wanted was to capture her newfound muses in pictures then show the entire world how underappreciated and over-stereotyped they were. Everything was not violence and gang wars. They were people too, and could be beautiful people.

Her mind drifted back to Tamao's smile. Yes, quite beautiful.

"Now I'm Housen's Washio Gota! _KILL THEM_!"

Hana stopped. Housen? Then there were shouts and screams and a racket so sudden it almost sounded unnatural in the calm night. Looking up at the catwalk overhead, the cause reigned chaos. Housen verses Suzuran.

None of the baldies in white looked familiar, but the two Suzuran guys in front were members of Takiya Genji's gang. Right behind them were two even more familiar faces. "Go! Manabu!" They landed fists quickly and accurately, but they couldn't defend as successfully, and as a fist struck Manabu's left eye, she started. "Manabu!"

Then she vaulted forward, reaching the stairs just in time to meet the oncoming fray plummeting toward her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

The fight moved so fast there was little opportunity for thought to precede action. Punches moved so rapidly in the dark she barely had time to differentiate her four friends from the innumerable oncoming foes. Nevertheless, she swung furiously and landed a few lucky hits from time to time. She hadn't been in many fights, but a childhood with older brothers made her able to connect a solid punch, even if she couldn't coordinate them. All the same, she really was no match. They shoved her away and discarded her blows continuously until she started jumping on their backs or tackling them down.

Her crazy contribution kept her frantic, but the frenzy didn't stimulate her to withstand full opposition. One swing came up short when a retaliator yanked her off one man's back and slapped her perfectly across the face—the pain every bit a sting as the shrieking sound that split the punches. It brought her down quickly, and red lines blurred her confused vision. She felt her face throb, but it took several moments for the real pain to sink in. When coherency returned, the fight was nearly over. One Housen student stood off against Genji's gorilla teammate.

"Makise," Manabu whimpered. She realized he lie next to her, but the effort of speaking absorbed what little energy he still possessed, and he passed out.

The Housen student pulled a knife, and Makise faced him, accepting the challenge. Tenseness vibrated throughout his body, working up in panting breaths until he finally screamed and charged at Makise. Hana maneuvered quickly in front of Makise, desperate to end the conflict before it worsened, but she needn't have bothered.

He was stopped by another force: Narumi Taiga.

"Washio," Narumi spoke calmly. "Real men don't behave like this." Then he pulled back a fist and knocked Washio flat on his back with one solid punch.

Hana jumped when Makise's hand touched her, directing her behind him. She allowed the change in position, but her fists remained tightly bound at her sides. "Narumi."

Narumi turned toward them. He gave Hana only the briefest of recognition then focused entirely on Makise. "As expected from Suzuran."

"Nani?"

Narumi raised his fist and pounded it against his chest. "You see." The oddly endearing suggestion made Hana swallow, but Makise wasn't so moved. "I want a one-on-one with your leader."

"Fine by me." The brief silence that followed made her skin tingle, and, just as quickly, Makise suddenly charged forward, fist high.

Narumi proved quicker—that or more well-rested. He ducked under Makise's fist and planted his own in his gut. Hana tensed. "You're a real man." Then Makise tried another blow, and Narumi kicked him backwards onto the ground.

"Makise!" Hana crouched down beside him, but a hand grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her away. Her temple collided into one of the metallic garbage cans, and for a few moments her vision went black. The pain from the slap suddenly drifted back to the forefront of her mind, and she curled inward at the compound throb throughout her head. Her limbs still worked accurately, and groping the ground for something tangible drove away the blackness then revealed Makise lying unconscious on the ground. Another man, someone she didn't recognize, stood over him silently.

Hana crawled clumsily over and turned Makise onto his back. "Makise?" The sound of her own voice irritated her aching head, and she lifted a hand to sooth the pain. The contact was wet, and her confused eyes stared strangely at the red blood across her palm. She discarded it, however, when her almond orbs returned to the bloody and bruised man on the ground. "Makise."

Two white shoes entered her peripheral vision, and Hana stopped shaking Makise. Slowly, her head lifted. Narumi looked down at her incomprehensibly then crouched beside her. She recoiled from his sudden closeness, but he moved no closer. "Are you all right?" His voice was soft, much softer than she was used to from him.

Hana touched her wound again then pressed the bloody fingers into Makise's shirt, gripping it so tightly her crimson handprint darkened the white wife-beater. "How can you ask me that? And why should you care? I should've stayed out of the way if I didn't want to get hurt, right?"

"I never would've let you get involved if you hadn't jumped in the way you did."

"Am I not allowed to defend my friends?"

He paused then shook his head. "No, you did what I would've done. But that doesn't mean I like it."

"I can take care of myself."

"No you can't." He smirked at her pout and reached out a hand. "You should stop the bleeding before—"

She jerked out of his reach and glared. "Narumi Taiga, I'm not a damsel in distress. There's no reason a woman should be treated any differently than a man in war."

Narumi rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head. "Have you decided to take part in our war?"

"I've decided to protect my friends. Why're you doing this?"

"Because Suzuran has to pay," he replied firmly.

His tone frightened her, but only for a moment. "Hatred only breeds more hatred. It doesn't solve anything."

"Do you have a brother, Hana-chan?"

She blinked. "What does that have to do with anything?" He didn't answer, but his eyes coerced. "Hai, three older brothers."

"And if someone murdered one of them, what would you do if his killer walked free?"

"Are you saying a Suzuran student—" She stopped.

"_He's just a murderer."_

Hana inhaled slowly. "Kawaishi Noburu. He killed your brother?"

Narumi shook his head. "He wasn't my brother, not like your brothers. But he was a brotherly figure, and Kawaishi gets to walk free after what he did. Suzuran and Housen have always been at war, and if it isn't bad enough that the bastard school spawned that murderer, now they're defending him. Suzuran has to be eliminated. Otherwise, my brother can never rest in peace."

Hana's shoulders relaxed, and she leaned forward on her knees, bringing her only inches from Narumi—who no longer seemed the slightest bit threatening. "Him, or you, Narumi-kun?"

Narumi's nostrils flared and his jaw tightened, but he kept his harsh stare on her. "It was in living that he found trouble," she continued, "but now he's free from all that. And Noburu has to live with what he's done. Even if he doesn't feel guilty, which I doubt, no one will ever see him as a normal person. He's separated himself from everyone. Being ostracized _is_ pain, of the worse sort." She looked at the chaos around them then shrugged. "As for Suzuran, if your brother had been the killer, wouldn't you do all you could to protect him from Suzuran?"

Narumi reached out his hand again, and this time, she let his fingers make contact with her bleeding temple. "Go to the hospital. You might have a concussion."

Hana watched him. Seeing his vengeance-driven face made her heart heavy. "Is revenge the way real men behave?"

He stiffened, catching her eyes, and then smiled. "Yamada Hana, if you're not careful, I'll have to kill them so I can have _you_, too." She blinked, and he leaned forward, planting a sturdy but short kiss directly on her mouth. She blushed and pushed him away, but he was much more stationary than her, and she ended up falling backwards. He laughed. "You've been warned, Hana-chan." Then he stood and walked away.

Hana pressed her bloody palm over her mouth, face hot with embarrassment. "Oh my God." She suddenly thought of Tamao watching the interaction and rubbed her lips roughly, smearing her mouth with the crimson liquid. "Makise!" She grabbed his shirt with both fists and shook him. "Makise!"

* * *

The ambulances took forever to arrive. By the time they did, several of the beaten Housen students regained consciousness and hurried away to escape the consequences. Hana managed to persuade the police that escaped students were the instigators, and their real concern was handling the remaining injuries before dealing with questions.

She didn't have a concussion, but the doctors stitched up her bleeding head while she iced down her swollen cheek. Makise and the others were gone by the time they finished stitching her up. The nurses said they got a few bandages but otherwise wanted to be left alone. She wanted to see them before they left but apparently would have to set aside the questioning for a later time.

Jun came and walked her home. They shared a few drinks while she enlightened him about the night's events, but he quickly ushered her into bed and fell asleep on the couch. She appreciated his devotion—in all her years, she never met a better friend—but it was nearly three o'clock before she finally fell asleep too.

She skipped her classes that day and headed to Suzuran first thing. If Makise and the others had been attacked last night, she felt certain there were more victims. Mostly, she had to be sure one Suzuran in particular didn't fall prey to the ambush.

"Hana-chan?"

Hana spun around and smiled. "Tokio! Perfect!"

"What the—what happened to your face?" He flopped his hand on her head and tilted it back into the sunlight then leaned closely over the stitches. "What happened?"

"I'll tell you about it later. Where's Tamao?"

Tokio blinked at the question and shrugged. "Izaki wanted to talk to him. They left just a second ago, you barely missed them."

"Really?" She picked up her step and waved over her shoulder. "Arigatō, Tokio-kun!"

"Oo, wait, Hana! You can't just walk around here!"

Finding them was too easy. Students at Suzuran gossiped and gabbed more than most girls she knew, and she ran to the bicycle racks. Tamao was here somewhere, and hopefully unscathed. She should have just asked Tokio; why hadn't she?

Because she wanted to see him. There was so much to say in the small amount of time they'd been separated. She needed to see him for herself.

Rounding the corner, her eyes spotted Tamao at the end of the bike racks—and he wasn't alone. He blocked a high swing from a blonde attacker, swung him around by the sleeve, and landed two hard punches against his abdomen. The blonde was temporarily stunned then threw a wild but strong swing, which landed across Tamao's face. Tamao stumbled back then straightened, laughed just the slightest bit, and charged with a yell. He kicked the blonde with both feet, knocking him head-over-heels across the bike racks and into the debris. A moment passed, Tamao watching over his fallen victim, and the blonde grabbed hold of the pole. But his grip failed, and he was unconscious. Tamao chuckled again then whipped around as if irritated.

When he picked up a dilapidated umbrella, Hana realized he was irritated because it started raining. He checked a pack of cigarettes on the ground, but they were ruined, and opened his mouth for the rain water. Only then did his eyes travel the full length of the aisle and see her.

She stood immobile. His face; that thrilled laughter when he fought the other guy. Watching him now as he stared back in silence, a realization struck her all too soundly: he and Narumi were the same—built for battle and very much infatuated with it. And the fight loved them in return. He wasn't some ridiculous yankee or idolized leader; he was a fighter, and an exceptionally dangerous one. What was it Jun called him?

The Monster of Suzuran.

Tamao's face adopted that boredom once more, and he scuffed closer. "What're you doing here?"

His tone stung. He acted possessive of her, told people she was his girl and bought her a new camera; she got involved in Suzuran and Housen's war. Yet he spoke to her like she was a stranger invading on his privacy again.

Hana squared her shoulders, determined not to let the hurt show. "Are you just gonna leave him there?"

Tamao glanced back at Izaki then shrugged. "He's beaten. Helping him would kill what little pride he has left. It's a fighter's mentality, you wouldn't understand."

Another low blow. Still, she nodded. "Soka."

He nodded too. "Oo." Then he continued on his way. But when he tried passing her, she cut him off. He looked at her and tried stepping around, but she blocked him again. "_Oie_."

"Get someone to help him."

He rolled his eyes. "I just told you—"

"Like you said, I'm not a fighter, I wouldn't understand that mentality, and quite frankly, I don't give a shit. Fighters are human beings behind that pigheadedness, and I won't leave him out here in the rain to bleed all over the place."

"Then why don't you help him?" he snarled and pushed past her.

Hana glared at his exit and marched for Izaki. When she reached him, she dropped to her knees and pushed his hair out of his eyes. His face was bruising quickly, thickening the skin with dead blood around his eyelids and cheekbones. She touched his cheekbone then recoiled and pressed her face into her hands. The tears were pathetic, really. What did she have to cry about? But she couldn't help it. Everything suddenly seemed so fragile, nothing more so at that moment than her heart.

She wouldn't understand? Why not?

Because he did not want her to understand. He wanted her out—out of his business and out of his life.

"Sumimasen?"

Hana's head snapped up, and she stared teary-eyed and dripping wet into the face of a beautiful girl. They were the same age, she was certain, but this stranger carried a charismatic vivacity that illuminated her entire face despite preoccupation with concern. "W-Who are you?"

The girl knelt down beside her and touched Izaki's arm then returned her glittering eyes to Hana. She used her other hand and lightly brushed the tears and rain from Hana's face. "Don't cry. Come on, help me get him up."

She pulled Izaki upright by his arms and wrapped one around her neck. Hana hesitated then ducked under the other arm. They carried him into the school and dropped him in the nearest classroom atop a collection of cluttered desks. The stranger found a first-aid kit in seconds and popped it open for business.

Hana sat in a chair beside them without a word. This girl knew what she was doing. Treating these sorts of cuts and bruises wasn't the slightest bit foreign to her, and Hana admired the way she worked and moved in a routine almost graceful.

Slowly, careful not to attract attention, Hana pulled her camera out of her bag and carefully moved around the scene. When the first picture snapped, the girl looked up. Hana blushed, but the girl smiled and continued working.

Izaki regained consciousness after a few minutes and squinted at the stranger, who now dabbed at his swollen eye with a cotton ball. "Hey," he rasped.

The girl set aside the supplies and leaned over him. "Hey, lover."

Hana's camera quickly caught the scene, but then she lowered it. It felt intrusive at this point. "Is he gonna be okay?"

They both turned to her, and Izaki squinted uncertainly. "Oie. Aren't you Serizawa's girl?"

The girl's mouth dropped. "_Nani_? You're dating Tamao?"

Hana waved her hands rapidly. "No no, I'm not at all! We just know each other!"

"Then what're you doing here?" Izaki asked plainly. "Didn't you come here to see him?"

She blinked. "Er, well, I guess so, but—"

"I can't believe Tamao finally has a girlfriend!" the stranger beamed. "And such a cute girl, too! I always knew he had good taste, though I can't say I see what you saw in him. He's such a simpleton, and for some reason he keeps getting bummier every time I see him. He really has no sense of style, which is a bit embarrassing for me, really. I mean, _how_ can we be related? Going out in public with him is becoming a freak show these days!"

"Sumi." Izaki gave her a look then motioned his eyes at Hana.

The stranger looked back and forth between the two then cleared her throat. "Oo. Gomen."

Hana shouldered her camera and stepped closer. "Did you say you and Tamao are related?"

"That's right! We're cousins!" She grinned and gave the peace-sign. "I'm the better half!"

"_Sumi_," Izaki scolded again.

* * *

Hana beamed and clutched her hands over her chest. "A pâtissier? _Really_? That sounds wonderful!"

"Yes. I got some time off and came home for a visit, because I miss all my children so much." Sumi wiggled her eyebrows then winked at Hana's laugh. "They really are like a bunch of kids, once you get to know them. They're all puppies beneath that bulldog façade."

Hana giggled but shook her head. "I don't see how Tamao could ever be a puppy."

"Tamao is the biggest puppy of all! He's just the leader of the pups, so he has to give more bite than bark. That's the curse of being the strongest." She tilted her head and nudged Hana lightly. "You like him, right?"

Hana blushed but nodded. "I guess so. I'm not really sure. Sometimes, I feel like he really cares about me, whether as a damsel or a pup, I dunno. But most of the time, I feel like I'm just a nuisance." She ducked her head. "I think I hurt his feelings today."

Sumi raised a shocked and amused eyebrow. "Hurt Tamao's feelings? How?" She glanced at Izaki, who sat across the room sleeping off his injuries. "For helping Izaki?"

"Yeah. And I'm sure the look I gave him wasn't nice. I'd never seen him fight, and he was just so into it against Izaki. He _enjoyed_ it, Sumi-chan. I'd never seen him that way, and when I saw the look on his face, I was afraid."

"Of Tamao?"

"Of getting closer," she whispered, only then realizing the truth. "What if I can't handle it? What if I'm too weak for someone like Tamao? Does that make me a bad person? I know he saw that uncertainty in my eyes, and it became clear to me that Tamao _doesn't_ want me in his life." She frowned and looked away. "I'd never understand it."

Sumi sighed then smacked Hana's back. "Go make up with him."

Hana blinked. "Nani? What would I say?"

"It's not important. As long as you go with that intention, that'll be enough for Tamao."

"But what if he—"

"Hana-chan, did it ever occur to you that look Tamao saw in your eyes made him wonder if _he's_ a bad person? If _he's_ too weak for someone like you? Maybe not the same type of weakness you were wondering, but weak all the same?"

Hana's cheeks slowly pinked. "You think so?"

Sumi nodded. "I know my cousin. He's not the judgmental type except on himself."

The absoluteness in Sumi's eyes bolstered Hana's confidence, and she jumped up. "I'm gonna find him. Arigatō, Sumi-chan!" She darted off but stopped in the doorway and spun around. "Sumi-chan?"

"Hm?"

"How did you make things work with Izaki?"

Sumi smiled. "By protecting each other."

Hana nodded and raced off. Protect each other. How would she ever protect Tamao from anything? Oh who cared! She made tight fists and threw them up as she charged out into the rainy street. "I'll protect you, Serizawa Tamao! Housen, look out!"

* * *

Vastly easier said than done. After she left Suzuran, Tamao was nowhere to be found. The gas station was vacated, and none of the students knew anything. Tokio nicely turned her down about information, but it was obvious he knew much more than he let on. What could she do, though?

For the next week, she visited the gas station everyday in the morning and at night, but he never showed. She stayed resilient nonetheless; every time she saw Asako, determination bolstered anew. He may not want to see her, but that didn't deter her confidence. Sumi had made up her mind that no matter what, she would stick by him. Hadn't she said it herself? Being ostracized was the worst sort of pain. She didn't want Tamao to feel that was what she meant to do. If only he would show his damn face!

Hana stood alone in the school dark room with her face unusually relaxed as she walked the line of hung photographs. Despite Tamao's absence, she managed to snap an impressive onslaught of good photos. Sumi helped, offering her a unique mental concept of Suzuran, which inspired clever angles and subjects. The boys all perfectly willing to be her guinea pigs, both Serizawa Faction and GPS alike. Except for Genji, who she had very few pictures of anyway. He was good looking, but his face was vastly troubled lately. For good reason, but it diminished the natural conclave of innocence and superiority typically shown on his handsome face.

Hana stopped at the end of the row. The picture hanging there drew her attention every time she checked over the rows. Izaki sat atop one of the school desks, face well-bandaged after his fight against Tamao, and his black shirt sleeves were pulled up to his elbows. Sumi stood beside him and dabbed medicine onto the cut flesh on his right forearm. One eye was focused diligently on the task while the other squinted shut as Izaki lightly kissed her temple. It was a beautiful shot, one of her best yet. It captured that seemingly impossible entwinement of violence and emotion she knew flooded the youngsters beneath the brawls. It was sweet.

Hana pulled the photo off the line and looked at it more closely. The lighting was perfect even in the dark room. The angle could have been a little more to the left, but Izaki's semi-shadowed face added a certain mystery that he deserved. Sumi couldn't be more beautifully captured if she were dressed for a runway. Together, they were amazing.

Satisfied, Hana slipped the picture into a yellow envelope and left the room. This was it.

* * *

The woman accepted the envelope and smiled. "Arigatō. We were just about to close submissions."

Hana smiled back and bowed. "Thank you for waiting."

"It's no trouble." The woman bowed as well and left.

Hana took a deep breath and slowly released it. It was over. Nothing to do now but wait. The knowledge set her at ease, even though it really shouldn't have. There was still quite a bit at risk, and her late submission gave her work less time to impress judges. Again, she shrugged. What else could she do?

"Finally submitted your piece?"

Hana turned her head then looked away again as Asako came beside her. "Hai." Then a long silence ensued. Hana glanced at her out of the corner of her eye but said nothing. Asako never kept quiet so long; this couldn't be good.

"I heard you were involved in a fight a few days ago."

The dictated question took her by surprise, but Hana nodded. "Something like that."

Asako looked at her. "Are you all right?"

Hana looked back. She caught Asako staring at the bandage over her temple before snapping her eyes away. Asako's embarrassment was strange. "Hai."

Asako nodded and spun away. "Good."

Hana listened to her heels clapping against the tile floor then turned. "Asako." Asako stopped. "Ready to lose?"

Asako swung her head around swiftly, caught Hana's playful eyes, and grinned. "Are you?" Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder and sashayed away.

Hana laughed and gave the lobby one last glance then followed out the door. Nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

Tokio took the piece of paper and read over the flashy words. "A photography competition?"

Hana nodded and sat Indian style atop a garbage can. "It's the one I was taking those photos for. If I win, my work will be displayed at a gallery."

"Really?" Tokaji read the paper over Tokio's shoulder then snatched it away when Tokio started setting it down. "So one of us might end up in the gallery?"

"Only if I win," Hana amended. "But yes, it's very possible. I really like the pictures I've taken of you guys, so some of you'll definitely be in the exhibit."

"Who did you enter for the contest?"

Hana smiled and placed her finger over her lips. "You'll have to come see for yourself."

Tokio chuckled and snatched the paper back. "Sounds like a challenge. Count me in."

"Are you sure we should?" Tokaji asked absently. "They might not let a scruffy group like us in."

Hana laughed. "Has that ever stopped you before, Tokaji-kun?"

He smirked. "Good point."

"They'll let you in, trust me. Just don't bring any bats or knives and everything should be fine."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I'd appreciate it." Hana glanced around the fairly empty station. "Tamao's not here again?"

Tokio looked up and shook his head. "Iie. Gomen nasai, Hana-chan." He really did sound apologetic, but his notice of her disappointment made her uncomfortable.

She jumped up and smiled. "The showing starts at noon. Don't be late!" Tokaji waved his hand dismissively, but his eyes read the flyer again over Tokio's shoulder. Tokio chuckled and waved at her until she disappeared on the street.

* * *

The next morning couldn't have possibly gone any slower. She tried sleeping late to pass the time, but once she woke, there was no going back. Jun took her out for breakfast and thankfully did most of the talking, a nice distraction from her incessant mental worrying. It was nice to catch up with what was going on in his life. It seemed like ages since they sat down and talked about anything outside of Suzuran or the competition. She felt a little bad realizing it only now, but, as usual, Jun gave her much more patience than she deserved. Sometimes she wondered if he was actually her guardian angel.

At eleven o'clock, she went back and changed then headed to the auditorium. Nothing looked good on her, mostly because she couldn't sit still long enough to picture it in the various positions she would be taking. Simple and pretty was always safe, she decided, and dressed in a lavender sundress with silver heels. She left her hair to do as it pleased, which thankfully was sitting loosely around her face. There were greater things to worry about, and finding an outfit proved time-consuming enough that hair no longer held any importance.

Hana arrived shortly after noon and took the remaining time to roam the aisles of submitted works. After the second or third aisle, her forehead creased. "Weird. Where's Asako's piece?"

"Hana-chan?" Hana turned and grinned from ear to ear. "Tokio-kun! You came!"

Tokio smiled. "I'm not alone either. Some of GPS is here, and Tokaji. I saw Sumi-chan, too."

Hana blushed and touched her cheeks. "Has she seen my piece yet? Do you think she'll be upset?"

"No way. Your piece is wonderful, and I think she might ask you to be her own personal photographer once this is over."

She laughed then clutched his sleeves. "I'm really happy you came, Tokio-kun. I can use all the support I can get."

Tokio grabbed both of her shoulders and looked her square in the eye. "You're gonna do fine. Better than fine; you'll be great. You have nothing to be nervous about, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're relaxed?"

"I'm relaxed." Hana stared back at him for several seconds then shook her head. "No, not at all."

Tokio laughed and motioned her away. "Then go back and look at that picture, damnit, and see how awesome it is, cause you must not've really looked long and hard."

"That's a good idea, actually." She smacked his arm then hurried off. Knowing her new friends were there really was a huge relief, but there was still so much freaking out that could overwhelm her. She rounded the corner into the aisle her piece hung and practically jogged down. Nearing it, however, she slowed to an unexpected stop.

Tamao stood in front of the photograph. He looked exactly the same, dressed in a tattered old shirt and pants with half of his dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. His hands were inside pant pockets, and he leaned slightly to one side as he observed the work. His face, that strangely handsome face, was exactly as she remembered it.

Only it wasn't. It held a new expression now. His eyes scanned every inch of the photograph, and in them lingered a sadness.

He was _moved_ by her piece.

Tamao turned his head suddenly, and his body followed as he saw her. He shuffled awkwardly then motioned at the photograph. "It's great. Seems I made a good investment, huh?"

His voice was a magnet. At the very sound of it, she stormed forward. He wasn't alarmed by her advance but did tense when she threw her arms around him and squeezed tight. "I thought you wouldn't come," she whispered. "I really needed you to be here."

"Dōshite? Your piece is great without me."

Hana sighed against the fighting tears and smacked his back but didn't relinquish him. "Just hold me, baka."

He was unresponsive, and Hana thought he might reject, but he finally raised his arms and hugged her. The touch was light at first, uncertain, but when she sniffled, they pulled her firmly closer. "Your piece really is great, Hana."

Hana pulled back and met his eyes anxiously. "You really think so?"

Tamao smiled and set her back a little further. "Hai." His hands cupped both sides of her face and wiped the tears from under her eyes. "Breathtaking."

Hana's chest swelled, and she clutched her hands over her heart. "It is?"

He kept her steady gaze and held her face even after the tears cleared. "Hai."

She suddenly gasped and grabbed handfuls of his shirt. "Oh my gosh, that reminds me! I'm really sorry about, well, that day with Izaki-kun. I never should've treated you that way, it was horrible of me! I mean, what do I know about your life? I mean look at me! I'm crying over some damn photography competition! And I tried to find you but I don't know where you've been and I thought you never wanted to see me again after what I'd done and I just—"

"Shhh." Tamao's soothing hands silenced her quickly. "Gomen nasai."

Hana blinked several times. "Y-You are?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Want me to take it back?"

"Iie!" She blushed at his laughter then pressed her lips together with relief. "Tamao." She grabbed both of his hands and held them tightly between their bodies. "I'm gonna protect you, Tamao! I won't let anyone say hurtful things to you again, myself included! If someone ever tries to hassle you, just let me know and I'll give them a mouthful so fierce they'll pee their pants before even looking at you again!"

Tamao smirked. "I think they do that already."

"But first! I have to go win this competition so I can save you from Asako's perverse clutches! Just watch me!" She spun around, but Tamao pulled her back.

"Hana."

She raised her eyebrows. "Hai?"

He opened his mouth but hesitated several seconds until his shoulders sank. His fingers brushed her bangs. "Is your head healing okay?"

"Oh, hai! I'm all right."

"Who did it?" His voice took a slight change, but his eyes remained pacifistic. "Was it Urushibara?"

She was confused. "Who's Urushibara?"

He rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands back in his pockets. "Never mind."

"Tell me, who's Urushibara?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Just tell me."

"I don't wanna tell you now."

"You're just being a stubborn ass."

"You would know."

"What was that?"

"Stop yelling, you're embarrassing me."

"Your look embarrasses me! Couldn't you at least put on a decent shirt?"

"I'm not the one who's gonna be on stage."

"Way to relieve the anxiety!"

"Why're you still yelling?"

"I'm not yelling!"

"Attention guests and contestants." Hana broke from her fury and listened to the announcer on the PA. "Please enter the main auditorium now so judges may observe the pieces before announcing the winners. Again, please join us in the main auditorium so the judges may make their final decisions. Dōmo arigatō gozaimasu."

Hana clutched her hands over her chest. "This is it." She made fists at Tamao and firmed her jaw. "Fight!" He rolled his eyes but smiled. She turned away then quickly spun back around, jumped him in another fierce hug, and sprinted away. "Wish me luck!"

"Hana!" She skidded to a halt, and he shuffled. Unless her eyes deceived her, there was a light blush in his cheeks. He raised a fist and tried not to smile again. "Fight."

She beamed. "I won't let you down! I can't give you up to Asako without a war!" This overpowered his determination not to smile, and she followed the crowd into the auditorium. _I won't give him up, not to anyone. That damn yankee is mine!_

The contestants already filled the backstage area, but the thought of competition no longer worried her. She would win, no matter what. She absolutely must. There was no way she could lose with her friends supporting her, whatever Asako—

Hana stopped and scanned the room. Where was Asako? She never saw her piece either. "Sumimasen." She grabbed one of the passing coordinators. "Fujiwara Asako, where is she?"

"Fujiwara Asako?" He considered the name then shook his head. "It's not a name I'm familiar with."

"But, isn't she a contestant?"

"Not as far as I know. Now if you'll excuse me, miss."

Hana frowned. Asako never entered? Why wouldn't she, after all the goating on? Did something happen?

"All right, contestants!" The coordinator waved the students' eyes his way. "Listen carefully for your name. The spokesman will read off the twelve finalists then name the top three winners. Get ready now, no dawdling."

Hana ignored him and slipped through the contestants into the now empty lobby. She darted up and down the aisles, taking only the time to check names and never works. Asako was nowhere. "Where are you?"

"Hana-chan?"

Hana flung about then rushed forward. "Asako! Where've you been? Why isn't your piece here?"

Asako stared blankly. "I didn't enter."

"W-What do you mean you didn't enter? I thought we had a bet?"

"I never found anything that inspired me enough to submit. Besides, Daddy's opening up a gallery for me once I graduate, so I really don't need this useless publicity. I should leave it to the peasants."

Hana couldn't believe it. Asako never expected to win; it was a hoax. "Why would you lie?"

"I've found lies to be much more effective than honest persuasion. You've always finished second best, Hana-chan, because you play nicely. I can't have my rival getting beaten by these amateurs because she couldn't muster up the balls to show some claws. So, I motivated you in other ways."

"Y-You mean that bet about Tamao was just one of your tactics?"

Asako thought. "Well, he was pretty hot, but nothing ventured nothing gained, right?" She smiled curtly and swayed toward the auditorium.

Hana couldn't pull her eyes from the spot Asako vacated. She had been dooped by her nemesis. And yet, helped? Or was this another of Asako's games? Oh hell, things were so confusing! What happened to simple cat fights?

"Hana-chan!" Hana snapped out of her controversy, and Asako glared from the doorway. "They're calling your name! Hurry up!"

Hana gasped and sprinted inside. "Damn, I almost forgot!" She maneuvered through the contestants like an obstacle course then threw herself out onto the stage. The bright light and applause made her stop long enough to straighten her dress and smile then take her place at the end of the line of finalists.

"And now, for the top three winners. In third place, Kuroki Kumiko!" The crowd applauded, and Kumiko collected her trophy. The displayed photograph was spectacular, Hana admitted. Landscape had never been her preference, finding people far more fascinating, but the piece was amazing even by her standards. "In second place, Ueto Yuu!" His piece was inspiring, and where Hana could see the brilliance in Kumiko's work, she easily saw why Yuu's got more votes. She felt she knew the child in the image as he sat under the sunlight.

"And now, for our grand prize winner." Hana immediately searched the audience for some sort of sedative, and Jun's face stood out amidst the people. He beamed and gave the thumbs-up. She suppressed a grin, but her lips pressed together against an apparent smile. "The first place winner of this year's competition, and future recipient of a gallery exhibition, is—freshman Yamada Hana!"

Hana's heart sank, and she squeezed her eyes shut. The contestant beside her patted her back encouragingly, but she was planted to the floor as she pressed her hand against her face to hide the tears. The roar of the audience sounded deafening even though she knew it wasn't. But it was so beautiful, so, well—

She smiled against the tears and dropped her hand to bow.

It was breathtaking.

* * *

She was still crying when everyone entered the lobby but could at least move and talk again. Jun was the first to reach her and wrapped her up in an emphatic twirl then hugged her. "You were great! I told you you'd win it!"

Sumi found her next and hugged her as well. "I can't believe you won using our faces! It made me cry, too!" Her eyes were red around the edges, and she clutched Izaki when he approached. He didn't say anything, but his smile spoke plenty.

"Hana-chan!" Tokio came from behind and swept her off her feet. "You won! Hahah!"

Hana laughed, but when he sat her down again, and the others came around to congratulate her, she cupped her hand over her mouth as she threatened to cry again. Tamao was the last to arrive, but he stepped through the fans easily and smiled. "You cry like a baby."

She flung her hand down, revealing her quivering lips in short-lived fury, and then took one step forward. It brought them close enough for her to throw her arms around him and bury her tear-streaked face into his neck. "I never thought I'd actually win," she sobbed lowly, for his ears only.

He pulled her waist closer with one hand and stroked her back with the other as he pressed his lips in her hair, whispering back, "Never had a doubt."

Hana could hear the others teasing around them, but she didn't care. He was here, in her arms, and very much a part of her life. A place he chose to be. She found it hard to cry with him so close, but the overpowering joy just couldn't be tamed.

"Sleeping Beauty?" Asako joined in the circle and crossed her arms over her chest. The look on her face wasn't the slightest bit surprised, almost smug, but there was a minor trace of satisfaction. "Give me a good run. No more half-assing, or I really will steal him away."

Hana fought a grin again and gave a mock-snub. "Don't worry, Asako-chan. I'll always be around if Daddy's money can't pull your weight."

Asako grinned and waved fleetingly as she walked out. "Good luck."

Jun shook his head at her exit. "That girl walks her own runway through life."

Hana laughed. "That's Asako!"

* * *

Rallying together for a late night celebration may have been the craziest thing Hana ever consented to. Whatever rift lay between GPS and Serizawa Faction, it took a ride on the backburner for Sumi. Tokaji reconciled himself to a pool table with Go, but all they really did was take drunken strikes at the ball then yell at one another for cheating. Some idiot made the mistake of letting Makise get near the karaoke machine, yet his bellowing inspired Manabu, Chuta, and Jun to join him in a doubly loud and equally horrible chorus. Genji sat alone at the bar, but his eyes were so buzzed Hana wasn't sure he didn't sleeping with his eyes half open.

Hana sat around a table with Tokio on her right and Tamao beside him. Izaki and Sumi sat on the couch opposite them, and though they never broke into anything serious with Sumi's mouth in a constant talkative frenzy, they constantly touched. Hana was a little envious of their closeness, but they looked ridiculously good together.

"You should have seen him when he was little!" Sumi narrated. She spoke a little too loudly, clearly in that haze between tipsy and drunk, but her mind was still sharply on topic. "No one ever wanted to play with me because they were afraid of my scary big cousin, but, let me tell you, Hana-chan." Sumi reached across the table and smacked her hand on Hana's as Hana reached for another shot. "He's really a _complete_ pussy."

Hana's laughter didn't go unaccompanied as Tokio threw himself back on the couch hysterically and Izaki chuckled noticeably behind his hand. "Is that so?" she managed between outbursts.

"Hell yes." Sumi took Hana's shot and downed it then leaned back in Izaki's shoulder, his arm along the back of the couch behind her. "He's easily distracted by _any_ sort of game, he turns to goo in front of the proper cuisine, and he's a complete sucker for cute girls. He had a crush on this girl when we were in elementary school, and the very thought of her made his cheeks turn pink. It was so cute! She rejected him, of course, cause who would want to date such a scary kid, but even his depressed little face was adorable. I think it was then that he decided, if he couldn't have the cute girl, then no cute guys could date me either. Bitter bastard, isn't he?"

"What're you saying?" Tokio laughed. "He's letting you date a member of GPS. I'd say the ape has evolved, wouldn't you?"

"Oie," interrupted Tamao. "Whose side are you on?"

"You get Tokio all to yourself plenty of the time," Sumi barked and stuck her tongue out. "Let him take my side once in a while, huh?" She turned her head toward Izaki and smiled goofily. "He does have a point, after all." Izaki grinned and kissed her slowly, eliciting a giggle as they progressively leaned down onto the couch.

"_Oie_," Tamao hissed.

Tokio smacked Tamao on the back and stood. "On that note, I'm gonna join karaoke."

Hana whipped around and grabbed his arm. "Oh God, Tokio, please don't."

"Don't worry, I'll whip them into shape, Hana-chan!" He winked at her then stumbled drunkenly over to the growing entourage.

Hana shook her head at him and turned back around. She sat silently, staring at the table, but the smooching couple across the table was impossible to ignore. Her experience with boys was certainly not slim pickings, but it had been a long time. Guys didn't want much to do with a woman who was so objectively-oriented. They wanted to come first, and she was never that accommodating.

She poured herself another shot, but when she leaned down to drink it, Sumi suddenly laughed aloud, and Hana jumped, spilling the contents all over the floor. Her eyes snapped up to scold her, but she quickly blushed and looked away when Izaki's mouth moved down Sumi's neck quite inappropriately.

"Oie!" Tamao shouted now and shot up.

Hana did the same but grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the table to the bar. "We need another bottle!"

Tamao resisted slightly as he checked several times over his shoulder, but when they reached the bar, his body did whatever she directed. "That bastard is practically raping my cousin in front of me!"

"You can't rape the willing," Hana replied directly then blushed when he looked at her in surprise. "I'm just saying!"

He sighed loudly and leaned against the bar. "That's exactly what's wrong with women today. You want all the respect in the world but let guys just grope you in public."

"He's not _groping_ her; he's _savoring_ her," she corrected. He glared, and she whipped around for another bottle. "And he's her boyfriend, not some guy."

He shifted his body so he could face her directly. "Are you saying you would let your boyfriend do that to you in public?" he asked incredulously.

Hana thought then shrugged. "If I liked him enough and alcohol was involved, probably."

He slammed his hand on the bar. "Alcohol-induced groping is sexual harassment!"

She rolled her eyes and turned to him. "Again, you can't harass the willing. I do believe when it's between two equally willing people, it's called _seduction_. A concept you're highly unfamiliar with, I'm sure."

Tamao frowned and grabbed himself a beer as well. "Are you saying I can't seduce a woman?"

She nodded. "Seduction is a subtle, confident, and charismatic act between people. Granted, you have confidence, but let's face it, it's more like arrogance. And like Sumi said, it really only works for you in a fight, not with women. As for subtlety and charisma." She looked him up and down then scoffed. "Well, let's not go fishing in the dark, huh?"

He stepped closer to her and smirked when she eyed him. "Fish prefer the dark. Night's the best time for fishing."

Hana rolled her eyes and took a swig of the beer. "Maybe, but if you can't see what you've caught, it's safer to throw them all back."

"I dunno know. The blind challenge can be exciting."

"Spoken like a true victim of too many hits on the head." She smiled at his chuckle and took another drink as he did. She looked back at their abandoned table, where Izaki and Sumi now lay together whispering and teasing with light touches amidst smiles and laughter. "They look great together. It's obvious they're meant for each other." She turned curious eyes on Tamao, who watched the scene again with another growing expression of annoyance. "Why did you let them date? You don't strike me as the type to give in easily."

Tamao scoffed. "I didn't let them date. They dated then told me about it later. I was completely against it, but if you can believe it, Sumi's more hardheaded than I am. I turned her away after that, but after a while," his voice lowered, and the irritation on his face dwindled, "I asked myself if I could give her up like that." He paused then smirked and turned his eyes on Hana. "Obviously, I decided I couldn't. So I learned to deal with it."

"Part of it, anyway."

"Exactly." Hana faced the bar for another drink, and Tamao watched her giggling face. There was a comfortable silence until he stepped even closer, close enough that their shoulders would touch if he turned away from her toward the bar or the table. He leaned his head down, and Hana saw his lips playing the cutest, lightest smile as he watched her curiously. "Why don't you have someone? Did you scare them all off with your badgering?"

She suppressed a grin. "I didn't have time for boys once I got into high school."

"Your parents are strict?"

She did grin now and shook her head. "Absolutely not. My parents have never been wealthy, and they've never pushed me anywhere I didn't want to go. My life is my own. They'll always be a huge part of it, but I have to go it my way, and they know that."

Now he closed that minor degree of separation by shifting his weight and leaned his shoulder against hers, but his eyes never left her face. "Then what?"

Hana waved her hand dismissively, but he let a silence ensue that inspired her to answer. "In my first year, we had a teacher who'd taught there since before I was born. She was a little batty but always knew what she was talkin about. Everybody used to say she was the career matchmaker because whatever she said always came to pass, with students and their success anyway. We all wanted to be in her good graces.

"One day, she had us write a paper about our past and what we hope for the future. I think I wanted to be a painter at the time, which is silly because I really have no talent for it, but I thought it was just for fun, ya know? When she passed the papers back, she looked me straight in the eye and said, 'Only beautiful people can make art. Your spirit's just too ugly, so stop dreaming and aim for something practical.'" Hana stopped. It was strange repeating those hurtful words. She could still hear it like the teacher stood across the bar and spoke directly at her.

"My friends all said she was only testing me, trying to get a reaction or whatever. But as the weeks passed, she made it clear her words weren't hypothetical, but fact. She had absolutely no faith in me whatsoever. She expected me to fail; almost _wanted_ me to. My parents told me that teachers pushed the students they expected great things from, but I knew better. She truly believed I was a waste.

"After that, my classmates started avoiding me. They said I wasn't going anywhere so they couldn't associate with my anymore. My bad karma might spread to them or something. Two months into my freshman year, I was completely isolated from everyone, teachers and students alike. I had no friends, except for Jun, but he was a year ahead of me. It was and will always be the loneliest time of my life."

"Being isolated is the worst sort of pain."

Hana snapped her eyes on him, and he watched her with a gaze that showed he understood entirely. "It is. I decided I couldn't live like that, but I'd never let that damn woman be right. I studied until I thought my brain might fall out, and in the end I skipped my second year to go straight to third and escaped her. My parents didn't have money for me to go to college, but my grades got me scholarships, and they send me money for other things. I try to keep it simple." She sighed and lowered her gaze. "I don't need to be successful. I'm not so driven by pride that I feel I have to be rich and famous to prove her wrong."

He tilted his head. "But?"

She pouted her lip and looked at him again. "I just want the freedom to choose for myself."

Tamao smiled and pushed her slightly with his shoulder. "You might be a Crow after all."

Hana blinked. "A crow?"

"Hai." He turned around and motioned at the Suzuran guys making spectacles of themselves. "We're all Crows. Students who make it through Suzuran faithfully are called Crows. Even Sumi's a Crow, though she's not technically a student, but she's one of us."

She crossed her arms over her chest and faced the party as well. "Does Sumi-chan know how to fight?"

"Yeah, and she's pretty good. I'd prefer she didn't, but she can hold her own."

"Does a Crow have to know how to fight?"

"Of course," he replied in mock-seriousness. "You have to dress like a hobo, too."

Hana laughed. "Then show me how to be a Crow!"

"You _want_ to be a Crow now? After all this grief about how I look and how much of a bastard I am and we're just a bunch of yankees working to be Yakuza—"

"Oh shut up and just show me how it's done."

Tamao pushed off the bar and scanned her top to bottom. "Well, the dress'll never work. How can you fight in a dress?"

"Don't underestimate me." Hana checked that the others weren't watching then raised her dress up, showing the shorts beneath. "I come prepared."

He grinned and nodded surrenderingly. "Okay, okay, so you're a little on top of things, but what about those heels?"

She quickly stepped out of the heels and kicked them aside. "A good fighter doesn't need shoes."

"True!" he agreed with a concise point at her then kicked off his flip-flops. "So maybe your outfit is fight-ready, but it's not good. Part of being a Crow is giving off the right appearance."

"Like how?"

He grabbed his uniform jacket off the back of a chair and tossed it to her. "Put this on." She did, but it was clearly too big. "It'll do for now. And…" He rubbed his hands against the dirty bar then wiped them over her cheeks.

"Oie! That's disgusting!"

"You have to look like you didn't just walk out of the mall, all right?" He smeared the dirt marks across her whimpering face then stepped back. "You've already got the smell of alcohol on you, so at least that's covered. Just one more thing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Put this in your mouth and inhale."

Hana put the cigarette between her lips and inhaled as he lit the end. She gagged and couched for several seconds and squinted against the gross feeling settling along her esophagus. "How can you smoke these things?"

"It's an acquired taste." He stood back, observed her a moment, and laughed. "You could never be a Crow."

"What do you mean?" Hana checked herself over. "Do I look weird?"

"Kawaii."

She looked up, and her heart pounded as he smiled at her. Cute? He thought she was cute! She giggled.

"_Oie_," he chastised. "Crows can't smile about every little thing."

"You were just smiling!"

"That's different." He moved closer to her again and pointed at his face. "You should never smile in front of guys, ever. Otherwise, they think they can walk all over you, and a Crow never gets walked on. When they look at you, give them a completely cold and indifferent gaze. Better yet, don't look at them at all; just completely ignore them. Got it?"

Hana quirked an eyebrow and took her own step forward. A bold move, as it brought the front of their bodies into the lightest contact. She had to look up to meet his eyes. "Because you don't like other guys touching me? Or talking to me? Or looking at me?"

Tamao smirked. "Exactly."

She tilted her head. "But why?" He took a deep breath, and the inhalation made his chest touch hers, but he didn't answer. Her teasing ceased, and she stared seriously into that strong gaze. "Why did you come today?"

Tamao was silent for far too long, but it was evident by those exquisite eyes that he searched for words to an answer he already knew. He inhaled again and used that expected contact to draw the slightest bit closer, pressing their bodies together while his fingertips traced a smear across her cheek. "I decided I wouldn't give you up either." He smiled. "Not after all that nagging I put up with."

She would have laughed, but then a pain jolted through her finger, and she gave a start. The burning cigarette dropped to the floor, and she stomped it instinctively. His laughter made her blush, and she brushed herself off. "Shut up."

"Hana-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" Jun suddenly threw himself on her and hugged her around the shoulders. "Hana-chaaaaan, you' so waaaaarm. Juz like a pi'low."

Hana tried pushing him off. "Junaki, what're you—"

He snapped his head up and gasped drunkenly. "Hana-chan!" She cringed when his breath hit her. "We have ta get back ta scho'! If Takagu'zi catches you sleepin in hiz class 'gain, he'll definit'ivally strangle you'z ta dea'f thiz time!"

"_Junaki_, please move away. Your _breath_ is strangling the life out of me."

"Izzit that bad?" He puffed breaths and smelled, not concerned that he breathed directly on her face. "Doesn't smell tha' bad ta—_ME_!" His hold on her vanished, and he blinked stupidly at Tamao, who had a firm grip on the back of his shirt collar. "Oo, konbanwa."

"She said you stink." He directed Jun away and signaled him to continue for the door.

Hana waved her hand across her face and coughed. "What a God awful stench." She slipped back into her heels and took a final drink of the beer. "Unfortunately, the baka's right. My teacher'll have my head this time if I sleep in his class, even if I won the contest."

Tamao nodded, and that apathetic expression returned. "Oo."

Hana narrowed her eyes and grabbed his cheeks. "Serizawa Tamao." She pulled them tightly. "You always make that face when you don't want people to know what you're thinking. But how can you ever seduce a woman with that kinda scary look? Didn't you learn from the girl in elementary school?"

He smirked. "I did." He walked forward, and she gave a start, releasing his face and backing up for each of his steps forward. Her back pressed against the bar, and he stopped barely out of reach for their clothes to touch. His eyes were mischievous. "I need to be more aggressive."

She swallowed. "N-No, I think you've got the uh, aggressive thing down."

"Do I?"

She nodded rapidly when he rested his hands on the bar at either side of her. "Yeah, most definitely."

He shook his head. "I don't know. Some women are very demanding."

She pouted. "Oie. Are you saying I'm demanding?"

His eyebrows flew up mockingly. "Are you saying I'm seducing you?"

Hana turned scarlet and abruptly ducked under his arm. "I have to walk Jun home!" He laughed behind her, and she pulled Jun out into the night air then down the street.

"Hana-chaaaaaaaaaaaan," Jun smiled ridiculously at her. "Hana-chaaaaan, you won the compezion today."

"I know, Junaki."

"It's suz a good thin', too! I mean, now you don't have any reaz'n ta go see those Suzur'n guys an'more, right? Well, 'cept for that Sara-zawa. He'z a _monster, isn't he_? But you like him, right? Like you can hide it fr'm me, heh? I'll just start callin you _SARA-ZAWA TAMMY-O'S GIRL_!"

"Jun!" Hana hissed. "God, just tell the whole damn world, why don't you?"

"Should I?"

"Iie, baka!"

"Oie." Hana and Jun stopped. Standing down the street, a dozen guys dressed in navy school uniforms blocked their path. The one standing in front was huge. His muscles bulged all the way up his six and a half foot physique, and that cold stare Tamao tried to teach her was expertly executed by him. "You're with the Crows?"

Hana inwardly cringed. "I-Iie. Why would you think that?"

He motioned at her. "You're wearing one of their jackets."

She looked down at it and outwardly cringed now. "I just found this, I don't—"

"You're Serizawa's girl?"

"Er, look, I really don't want any trouble—"

"Then you should've stayed away from Serizawa. If you don't wanna be mistaken for a Crow, you'd better take that jacket off, too." He smirked. "Not that it matters. As long as you're here, I intend to make you useful."

Hana instantly released Jun, and he collapsed deadweight, having passed out moments before. She glared. "_Oie_. Don't think just because I'm a girl I'm gonna let you say whatever you want to me. If you don't leave now, I just might get angry." Then they drew metallic bats and rods from behind their backs, and she paled. "Or we could talk this out like civilized people."

"We don't deal with civilized people. And it's a good thing Serizawa doesn't either, cause we're gonna make sure he won't even recognize that face of yours." He cracked his knuckles and marched forward. "We'll show you what it means to be Serizawa's girl."

Hana stiffened. She couldn't run. Tamao's reputation was on the line, and Jun was passed out. Even if she did run, there was nowhere to run that they wouldn't find her. Nowhere to run.

She slipped out of her heels and flung the large jacket aside. "Then I guess I'll have to fight!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Hana easily ducked under the huge guy's fist and bolted for the others. Adrenaline took over unintentionally, and she vaulted into the air and landed a foot directly in the center of one guy's chest. Her feet landed like an inexperienced cat, but she ducked and rolled away from a wide swing of another opponent. He tried stomping on her, but his attacks were never quite fast enough to outmaneuver her rolls. She managed to roll far enough and kicked his legs out from underneath him. A forth man grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her up. She slapped wildly at his face until slamming her knee into his groin.

Then a blow connected against the back of her head, and she collapsed face-first into the pavement. Her ears rang loudly, and her mind was vaguely aware of her hands clawing at the ground. Then she flipped over onto her back, and the punk slapped her hard across the face. Strangely, it didn't hurt as much as past ones. Either this guy was weaker than he looked, or she was getting used to the tingly sensation. He yanked her back by her hair and grabbed her bicep viciously, dragging her back into the midst of them.

Hana grabbed wildly at him, and a second man helped him hold her upright, arms stretched in opposite directions at her sides. The largest man marched toward them, his cruel intentions obvious by the heat in his eyes. His hit was superior to his entourage. The standard open palm disappeared beneath his tightly bound fingers, and pronounced, uneven knuckles struck the corner of her left eye. The contact flung her head violently, and if they didn't hear the crack of her neck, she certainly felt it. Even with the red and black lines streaking her vision as he struck again across the other eye.

Somewhere, though, beneath that tear-stinging pain, an instinct took hold of her psyche. It whispered in her ear subtly, its voice lurking toward her. Then one of the guys loosened his hold on her arm, and the voice screamed. She twisted her arm out of his grasp, yanked him head-first into the guy on her other side, and stumbled underneath a suppressive swing from the mountain of pain. She couldn't see clearly, but her feet drove her away from the stampeding predators following suit.

She couldn't outrun them; she knew she couldn't. Adrenaline worked miracles, but it wasn't omnipotent. The body had its limits, and hers was showing signs of protest as her lungs seared with pain and her eyelids threatened to swell straight over her blurring pupils. Oh God, the pain was excruciating.

"_Can't force loyalty."_

Her feet would go no further in the sprint, and, for some reason, she was glad for it. She turned on the guys, who panted dangerously at her, exerted but not tired. They were just warming up. She was near the main street now; she could scream for help. But she caught the leader's sneer and felt her feet charge toward them with a loud cry. She ducked under the swing, down far below his waist, and grabbed his ankles then flung him head-over-heels across her back. The next fist was blocked, but the third connected with her jaw.

It brought her down instantly, but she kicked the bastard before he could kick her. The largest guy forced her arms down and straddled her hips. His knuckles found her face again, and the strength evaporated from her limbs. But she wouldn't cry for help. She wouldn't!

"_He's beaten. Helping him would kill what little pride he has left. It's a fighter's mentality, you wouldn't understand."_

A fighter's mentality.

"_And a Crow never gets walked on."_

Never gets walked on. The thought consumed what little consciousness she still possessed, but it was enough. She bucked her body hard, fixing her feet beneath her, and then twisted her hips. The abrupt retaliation threw him off enough that she pulled her leg up and thrust it into his crotch at full force. He swore and collapsed on his side, but his men were ready to jump in.

One yanked her up by the hair, and the repeated offense set off a bomb in her reflexes. She lashed away from him, ignoring the ripping of her hair from her scalp, and punched him straight in the nose. Surprisingly, the bones cracked, and she tackled him. She tripped in the maneuver, relinquishing her hold on his waist, but the momentum kept him stumbling backwards straight through a store window.

The remaining two goons grabbed each of her arms and pinned her to the ground. One positioned her arms over her head, and the other spread her legs then sat on her knees. She could hear him unbuckling his belt, though it made no difference. She thrashed and struggled so violently he fell sideways off her then her foot nailed him directly in the temple. The last guy couldn't hold her insane retaliation alone and ended up with his face meeting the store wall next to the shattered window.

Hana shuffled over to the groaning behemoth still clutching his crotch and kicked his hands down awkwardly into the aching extremity. He shouted in pain but was unable to retaliate. She made sure he didn't recover anytime soon by bashing him over the head with a metal garbage can.

Then all was silent except for her hectic breathing. They were defeated. She was triumphant. Five minutes passed before she headed back for Jun, her feet somehow still finding strength but her eyesight nearly covered by swelling.

"_You might be a Crow after all."_

* * *

"The next three classes will be utilized for research on your projects due at the end of the month. Remember, your topics must be cleared with me if they haven't already and no slacking on your homework reading. We _will_ still have our test. Have a good weekend." Takaguchi closed his lesson plans and packed up as the students filtered out. He was the last one.

"Sensei?"

He looked up, and a stunned concern consumed his face. "Hana-chan!" He crossed quickly to the doorway and cupped both sides of her face. "What happened?"

Hana felt embarrassed by the obvious blue and black bruises around her eyes and mouth. "Sensei, that hurts."

He softened his hold but didn't release her. "How did this happen to you?"

"I was jumped last night," she said simply and smiled somewhat. "But I'm okay. I kicked their asses, sensei!"

Takaguchi wasn't relieved by this news and ushered her into a desk. "Sit down. Tell me exactly what happened. Who was it?"

"I didn't come here about that." She patted his hands reassuringly and smiled bigger when he sat in the desk beside her. He looked a lot younger playing the student rather than the instructor. "I'm really okay, sensei. I just came to find out what I missed. I would've come, but the doctor's office took longer than I thought."

"The lesson's not important—"

"_Sensei_," she cut off sternly. "Don't patronize me. I sleep enough in your class as it is. You can't go easy on slackers like me, don't you know?" He smirked, and she giggled. "But I appreciate the concern."

Takaguchi leaned on the desk and watched her seriously. Something played in his mind; it was obvious by the search in his wise eyes. "I heard about the contest. Congratulations."

She smiled. "Arigatō gozaimasu."

"I went to the viewing and noticed something of particular interest in your piece." She blinked curiously, and he lowered his voice. "There was a jacket on the back of the chair, with a Suzuran Boys' High School crest on the pocket." Her pleasant intrigue diminished. "Are they the ones you've been following?"

Hana averted her eyes. "Hai."

"Did they do this to you?"

"Iie!" She turned furious eyes on him. "Suzuran would never hurt me! They're my friends!"

"Then," he tilted his head, those gears in his mind openly turning, "do you know a Takiya Genji?"

"Genji-san?" She narrowed her eyes. "What about him?"

"His father, Takiya Hideo, is the leader of the Ryuseikai gang for the Yakuza."

"So?" she hissed.

"So," Takaguchi continued calmly, "he's a hot ticket right now. Word is Yazaki Joji's gang is out to take his turf, which of course includes his life."

"He's a Yak. His life's always at risk."

"Yazaki isn't just any Yak. He'll go to any lengths to achieve his means. He already tried killing Genji once, but his man didn't pull through."

Hana blanched. Tried to kill Genji? Seriously? He was a loose cannon, for sure, but still at the prime of his reckless life. How could anyone—

She stopped. Takaguchi continued watching her, but something in the look unnerved her. She stood and backed up a step. "How do you know so much about all this? It's not exactly textbook material." He stood also and regained the step. She clutched her hands at her sides. "Sensei?"

Takaguchi plopped his hand on her head, breaking the tension, and smiled. "Just stay out of trouble, Hana-chan. Don't let me see you like this again." He took his briefcase off the desk and headed for the door. "I won't take pity on a slacker next time." But he stopped there and smiled over his shoulder. "Congratulations again, Hana. You make me proud."

Hana stared at his exit then touched her head. "Sensei." He knew something more than he told. His concern was sweet, but his knowledge surpassed professor training. He was hiding something important from her, something to do with Genji, so something to do with Suzuran, thus somehow involving Tamao as well.

Then it had something to do with her, and she wanted to know what.

* * *

Jun shook his head and popped a Dorito in his mouth. "I'm still amazed you beat those guys, Hana. You couldn't even beat the handicapped kid in fourth grade."

Hana glared and raised her fist at him, but his wince satisfied her enough. "Unless you wanna see how I did, you'd better watch it. Whose fault is it I fought alone?" His face dropped, and he looked at the ground. She frowned then kicked the garbage barrel between them. "Oie. Don't pout. Your drunk ass would've just gotten in the way anyway." Jun glanced at her only a second then back at the pavement. "_Oie_. Quit, already; you're making me feel bad."

"I should've helped. I'm your best friend and wasn't there when you needed me most."

"I didn't need you. I did just fine on my own, as you can see. I really need you when projects are due and people suck, and you've never missed one of those sessions. I need a friend, not a bodyguard, and you're the best at that."

He pouted his lip but looked up. "Really?"

"Of course! Do you think I'd lie about something like that?" She thought. "Well, yeah I might, but you've known me long enough to tell when I'm lying and when I'm not, so this time I'm being honest!"

He kicked the barrel rebelliously and flung an accusing finger at her. "How can you comfort someone with a comment like that? Haven't you ever tried to make someone feel better?"

"Who asked you to feel bad? Don't make me the bad guy here, you're choosing to have a pity party over there!"

"I can't help it! Just looking at your face reminds me of what a bad friend I am!"

"I told you to quit, baka!"

"But—"

"_Junaki_!" She glared severely at him. "If you bring up last night again, I'll personally kick your ass. Got it?"

Jun winced as she raised her fist at him again. "Okay, okay! I won't bring it up again." He stuck his tongue out at her. "Jeez, you're getting more like these yankees every day."

"Just stuff your face and shut up."

"See what I mean?" But he pulled the spoon out of the carton of Baskin Robbins chocolate ice cream and stuffed it in his mouth. The barrel was home to many other snack foods: peanut butter and hazelnut cookies, crisp green grapes, a full-size bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos, sticks of string Swiss cheese, and a large bag of un-assorted candy. "Why did we bring all this stuff here anyway? Didn't you say this is where those yanks like to hang out?"

She slapped his hand, driving the spoon up into his nose. He really didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.

"Speak of the devils, here they come."

Hana turned her head, and, sure enough, the members of Serizawa Faction approached. They conversed in friendly camaraderie, but Tokio caught sight of her and stopped. The smile slowly sank away, and Tokaji followed suit. Tamao came up between them and glanced curiously at Tokio then noticed her and Jun sitting at the gas station. But his face didn't fall, instead rising in shock. He marched up to them and stared down at her.

She lowered her eyes, but his ongoing silence forced them up. "Are you hungry?"

Something strange happened. No emotion lingered in his features, and yet he still looked distinctly angry. "Who did this to you?" he asked evenly.

"Tamao—"

"_Who_?"

She shrugged. "I dunno what their names are or where they go to school."

"What did their uniforms look like?"

"Does it really matter—"

"Yes," he interrupted.

Hana sighed and smiled weakly. "No, it doesn't. It's done, and I'm fine. Just let it go."

"Hana-chan," Tokio interceded, and he and Tokaji joined the circle. "How can you expect us to just overlook this? You could've been killed, and what if it happens again?"

"It won't. They wouldn't dare mess with me a second time. And when they do, I'll still be fine."

"Saying you'll be fine doesn't make you fine," barked Tokaji. "Just tell us who the bastards are."

"I told you, I don't know who they are. I don't really remember what they looked like, it all happened so fast—"

"Navy uniforms," Jun suddenly interceded. All eyes turned on him, including a warning Hana, but he kept his gaze on Tamao. "They wore navy uniforms with an eagle crest. There were five of them, one a hell of a lot bigger than the rest, and he's the one who put those marks on Hana's face. Because she's your girl, and they wanted to send you a message. Luckily Hana managed before they could beat the shit out of her."

Tokio gawked and grabbed her shoulder. "You beat them, Hana-chan? All of them?"

Hana blushed and shot a dark glare at Jun, but he still focused on Tamao. "She stood up for you," he continued lowly. "Protected your reputation. Protected you."

"Junaki," she hissed then smiled at the others. "I didn't come here about that. I brought some snacks for a sober celebration of my victory." Tokaji and Tokio continued staring silently, and Jun and Tamao's eyes never strayed. She smacked Tokio's stomach and kicked the barrel, pulling Jun's eyes away. "Come on, dig in! The ice cream's gonna melt so be sure to eat that first."

Tokaji reached over Jun's shoulder and picked up the bag of candy. "Is this a celebration or a pig out?"

"It's better than alcohol and out-of-tune karaoke," she chastised as Tokio favored the Doritos. "I don't think I've ever heard anything that awful in my life."

"That's because you haven't heard Genji sing," chuckled Tokio.

"We weren't that bad," Jun protested, pouting his lip again.

Hana threw a Dorito at him. "What did I tell you about that face?"

"I'm not feeling guilty! I'm feeling rejected."

Then Tamao grabbed her wrist, yanked her up off the seat, and pulled her away. Jun started to get up, but Tokaji planted a hand on his shoulder. She was led away from the gas station and around the fencing until they reached a shady tree lining the road, out of visual range of the guys. He released her and sat in the grass underneath the branches. "Sit."

Hana checked over her shoulder awkwardly then sat down beside him. "What're we doing?"

He took a deep breath. "Hana."

She lifted her eyebrows. "What?"

He exhaled slowly and turned his head toward her. "What the hell were you thinking? You should've run."

She didn't want to think about last night. "I couldn't run with Jun—"

"Then you should've left him," he seethed. "They weren't after him, they were after you!"

Why was he yelling? "I won't run away from a bunch of creeps!"

"Then you'll end up on a gurney, or worse, dead! Is that what you want?"

"I'm not gonna be responsible for killing your reputation!"

"You can't save something that isn't yours to lose, Hana!"

"How can you say that—"

"People are always gonna say things about me. That's part of the sacrifice _I_ have to make, _not_ _you_."

"_Yes_, I do!"

"_No_, you don't!"

"Yes I do!"

"Dōshite?"

"Because!" She bit her lip, but it didn't kill her response. It was embarrassing he even had to ask. "I'm your girl."

Tamao pressed his lips together, forcing calm, but still noticeably fumed. "Do you have any idea what being my girl means? Wasn't last night enough of an example?"

"Last night showed me the type of person I am, Tamao. And it showed me just how committed to being your girl I am." She sat straighter and looked at the street. "It's a fighter's mentality. You _should_ understand."

Tamao remained silent. He could have been burning holes in the side of her head for all she knew, but then the grass moved. Suddenly, his arms came around her, and she was pulled back against a body. His legs sprawled out on either side of her, and he rested his chin in her collarbone, holding her close. She stopped breathing at first then smiled and reclined into him. The feel of his scruffy face against her cheek sent giggles up her throat, but they managed to stay quiet enough that the newfound silence remained uninterrupted, tasting all the sweeter.

Her hands clung on those muscled arms possessing her. Ironic the physical restraint set her at ease.

* * *

Poor Jun wound up left with Tokaji and Tokio because Tamao insisted on taking her home and looking at her face himself. They didn't even go back to tell the others. Most of her neighbors were still out at work or dinner dates, so no one asked questions about the stranger.

Hana sat Indian style on one of her kitchen table chairs, and Tamao pulled the front of their chairs together, straddling his so his knees touched hers. He treated her face, even though it had already been done hours before at the hospital. His hands were experienced and surprisingly gentle. She couldn't help smiling lightly at the tenderness.

"They look more serious than they are," he said matter-a-factly. "They'll be gone in less than two weeks, the swelling in days. You heal fast."

Hana raised her arms and pretended to flex. "I can't be broken!"

He smirked but lost the humor. "How many times did they hit you?"

"Mm, the big guy got in the most licks. Seven, maybe eight times."

He rested his wrists on his knees and started straight into her eyes. "Is that all? They didn't do…anything else?"

She shook her head. "They couldn't hold me down long enough."

His chest flared. "But they tried?"

Hana bit her lip but nodded. "Hai."

Tamao's jaw shifted, and he cleaned up the first-aid kit. "They won't get away with this, Hana. I'll make sure they never even look at you agai—" He stopped and looked back at her. They stared then he looked down, where her hands clung on his shirt.

She blushed when he looked at her again. "Don't start. You have enough trouble with Housen."

He nodded. Then he slowly untangled her legs and stretched them out on either side of him. She kept his gaze, but her body tingled with wild sensations. He tucked a careful arm around her waist then glided her up his legs, straddling his lap. She gasped shakily when her hips slipped snugly into his. So perfect. "What're you doing?" she whispered.

He cupped her face in his other hand and slipped the agile fingers back into her hair. "Seducing you."

Whatever she had daydreamed about his faultless lips before were put to shame by the gorgeous thrill his skillfully passionate mouth stirred in her, especially when they worked hers apart, and his tongue flicked beyond against her own. She literally stopped breathing, but her heart pounded excitedly. When she realized she was sitting immobile, however, she closed her eyes and moved her lips back against his.

The return instigated him, and he dropped his hand from her face then rocked her straighter on his hips, forcing him to arch his neck higher and her breasts to graze that skin between his chest and neck. She let her arms dangle over his encompassing hold, never wanting anything to come between their two bodies.

But there _was_ still something, and his hands slipped beneath her shirt as a reminder. Her face may be bruised, but her body suffered no visual side-effects, so she had worn a bowl-cut blouse to disguise the severity of her brawl. It was thin though not immodest, and his strong hands brushing it around her flesh made her shiver.

He growled suddenly, grabbed the bottom of her thighs, and then, in one bold movement, lifted her up and onto the kitchen table. Tamao's hands glided down her eager body, eliciting an insatiable sigh as his fingertips ghosted over the curves of her. His hands molded intentionally around her firm bottom and down to her thighs, never breaking their heated kiss. She felt the cold table beneath her skin but kept her legs tight and clutched his face between her trembling hands.

His muscled fingers tantalized her flesh just at the hem of her shirt—God did she love the feel of those calloused palms caressing her—then he grabbed the barrier and pulled it over her head. The apartment was not at all chilly, but the way his eyes sexed her with only the briefest of pauses between their kissing sent chills up her spine.

She wanted him to feel the same. Her fingers clawed up his shirt, a little delirious from his ravaging lips working their way across her face toward her throat, and fumbled with the buttons. They were impossible, slipping between her fingertips and bunching into the fabric. In a blur of frustration and desire, she gripped his shirt at the top and yanked it open, snapping the buttons off in rapid succession. She shoved it down his shoulders then pressed her hands flat against his bare chest, the patch of hair in the center the same as the strands on his head.

Tamao slid her off the table, and the linoleum was ice cubes against her burning feet. He cupped both sides of her face and kissed her slower. He tasted so good, and she encircled his waist then pulled their bodies together. The contact of their naked skin made their embrace tighter, sweeter. Gradually, winding down, he separated their lips and brushed his face against hers.

Hana almost couldn't breathe now that passion gave way to reality. The physical space between them barely existed, but in it were steady pants. His mind was as scattered as hers, she was pleased to discover. She opened her mouth, but he moved his head and pulled her further into his arms, hugging her tightly. She tucked her cheek into the arch of his exposed neck.

Oh how safe she felt, and in safety came peace. How could anyone ever let that go?

"Gomen," he said suddenly. "If I'd never hassled you that day, you'd never have gotten involved in this. This never would've happened to you."

She smiled into his skin. "You did what you thought was right, though I don't think you should've taken it out on my camera."

He pulled back slowly but didn't raise his eyes. He watched his hands glide from her back to the front of her shorts and unfasten the button. The zipper effortlessly submitted to the tug, and he carefully pushed the fabric down her hips, where they dropped inevitably to the floor. His fingers traced her underwear line, and her skin jumped.

He looked at her now. "I wanted you. Then. But I didn't want the distraction, so I tried scaring you off. That's why I broke your camera."

Hana blinked strangely then ducked her head, smiling. "Baka. If you didn't want me around, you shouldn't have come to the competition." His belt happily relinquished its hold around his waist, and she drew her fingernail across his waistline. Then she set him one step back. "Or to the bar. Bought the camera; saved me from Asako; let me meet your friends. Or taught me what it means to be a Crow."

She reached up behind her and unsnapped her bra. It fell away easily, and she slipped her panties to her ankles then stepped out of them. Her cheeks burned, but she managed to raise her eyes to him again. "If you still want me, take me. Because I'll never leave you. Not now." She smiled bashfully. "I love you, Tamao."

Tamao's chest rose unsteadily, but his eyes were glued on hers. "Hana." He took back the forced distance and caressed her face, the fingertips reaching beyond into hairline. "You shouldn't have said that. Now you'll never get rid of me." His gaze seduced her all over again. "You're _mine_. My girl." Then he kissed her again, and ideas of perfection overwhelmed her as a passionate bliss consumed her with each flick of his tongue, every touch of his fingertips.

The bedroom never seemed so far away.

* * *

Such a sweet dream. Where had she thought it up? Why had she? It was sweet, but reality would be bitter afterward, at least for a while. Like salt after milk, the original taste became disgusting while the unpleasant aftertaste lingered. And it smelled like fish.

Hana's eyes fluttered open and stared at the indented pillow beside her. The blankets were disarrayed, only reaching as far as her naked waist, and even the sheet beneath her stomach bunched near her bellybutton. Yet the air smelled like fish.

From outside the room, someone non-discreetly moved around, and the smell came from there. Was she still dreaming?

Hana slipped out of bed and dressed in shorts and a large t-shirt then walked into the living room. She smiled instantly and approached the kitchen. "I didn't know you can cook."

Tamao looked up from the pan and smiled back. "My cousin's training to be a world-famous pâtissier. I know a few things." He motioned to the already set table. "Sit."

She did, picking the side where she could watch him, and crossed her arms over the table. "Tamao-senpai." He glanced at her, and she smiled at his surprise. "I'm glad you can cook, because I burn even toast."

He smirked and continued cooking. "Figures an artist has no useful skills."

"Oie."

"Women should know how to cook. How can you not even make toast? Didn't your mother teach you?"

"I spent all my time with my face in a book!"

"Nandemo iinjyanai." He turned off the stove then brought the skillet over and siphoned the portions between the two plates. "Totally useless," he mumbled as he turned and put the pan in the sink. She silently laughed but hid it when he came back. "Get Sumi to teach you something. I'm amazed you haven't starved to death yet."

"Shut up." She clapped her hands together and beamed. "Itadakimasu!" Then she dove in. She didn't compliment him but smiled while devouring the meal.

He just smirked and ate too. "You eat like a starving bum."

Hana glared defensively. "Look who's talking. You dress like my dead uncle."

"It's comfortable."

"Dressing in rags like a homeless man?"

"This coming from the girl who ripped all the buttons off my shirt last night?"

She blushed then kicked him when he smiled victoriously. Now he growled, and she pretended not to care. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Forget it," he grumbled. "Bums have their pride too."

"Could have fooled me." She motioned at his bare chest. "What kind of shirt do you want?"

"I don't want it. You'll use it as a way to get more money out of me. We might as well be married already."

"You owed me that camera! Besides, I don't need your money anymore." She ducked her head and blushed again. "I'm using you for sex now."

Tamao paused then laughed out loud. "That's so much better!"

"You should be so lucky!" Then Hana got up from the table and headed into the main room to answer her ringing cellphone. She retrieved it from her purse and flipped it open. "Moshi moshi?"

"Hana-chan?"

"Sumi-chan?" She and Tamao made eye contact. "What's up?"

"Do you know where Tamao is?"

"Yes, he's here."

"Tell him to get to Suzuran."

"Dōshite?" Sumi kept her cool, but Hana heard the urgency in her voice.

"Genji's taking on Rinda-man again. He needs the support."

"What do you mean?"

Sumi paused for a solid five seconds. "Don't tell Tamao. He just needs to get here. But…someone tried killing Genji's father."

Hana was glad Tamao had gone back to eating because she gawked mindlessly. Murder. Or attempted murder, anyway. It was appalling, but the course of action was obvious. She forced a smile and pressed the phone into her shoulder. "Tamao." He looked up. "Sumi says you need to get to Suzuran. Genji's gonna challenge Rinda-man again."

Tamao was up immediately and put on his button-less shirt. "Enjoy your breakfast. I'll be by later." He pecked her temple and hustled out the door. "Keep out of trouble!"

"That goes double for you!" As soon as the door slammed, she put the phone back to her ear. "Tell me everything."

* * *

This was a terrible idea. What the hell was she doing here? If Tamao found out, things could get difficult. But she had to do this. The smell of sweat was a constant reminder.

"_Narumi_!"

Every head turned on her, and one man held his arm across her path. She flung it out of the way and tried to pass, but he grabbed her arm and forced her back. She fought against him wildly. "Narumi!" A hand grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed.

"Ryo!" The movements ceased, and Narumi stepped out from across the room. "Let her go."

Hana shoved the big guy away and spun on the second assailant. Her palm connected precisely against his cheek, but her fury didn't dwindle when she saw his face. The man who attacked her and Makise. She glared. "Ryo, huh?" He was not fazed by her attack. "You'll get yours later." She faced Narumi again and walked closer. "Make them leave."

Narumi smirked but motioned them out. "What can I do for you, Hana-chan?"

"Where were you last night?"

"Out."

"Doing what?"

"Counting stars." He raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"You met with Genji?"

His humor drifted. "Ran into him, more exactly."

"What did you talk about?"

"Cigarettes." He tilted his head. "Why're you asking me all these questions?"

"Genji's father was shot last night." She noted his suspicion. "Did you know?"

"Iie, but so what? Are you here to make accusations?"

"Iie." Hana let the fierceness recede. "I know you well enough, Narumi. You fight by a code; cowardly tactics aren't for you. I'm here to tell you how others are gonna see it. This is a pivotal time for Housen and Suzuran so I'm warning you now: tread softly."

Narumi smirked and stepped closer. "You talk like someone who's made up her mind about this war."

"I'm with Suzuran," she responded frankly. "I'm Tamao's girl now."

"Are you?" He tilted his head and studied her face. "You like guys who rearrange your face?"

It was instinctual but still impressive how fast her hand slapped his face. "Baka yarō," she mumbled darkly then turned and stormed off.

* * *

Why had she needed to warn him? He was a grown man; he could take care of himself. But he needed to know.

Why? Genji didn't know who he was, and Narumi had nothing to do with what happened to Genji's father. Still, Sumi had found out. That gave Hana enough reason to doubt. If Sumi knew, others might also. She was with Suzuran, but she liked Narumi. Really.

"Oie." That voice was unmistakable, and she inwardly groaned. Not these idiots again.

Hana turned and set her hands on her hips. "You guys aren't seriously gonna try this again, are you?"

"We're not gonna go easy on you this time," the big one grunted. "You won't be recovered already. How much of a challenge can you be?"

"Add to your equation," interjected another voice, "a little evening of the odds." Hana didn't bother looking but was grateful for the figure at her side.

The big one fidgeted, and one of the others spoke nervously, "Narumi."

The behemoth growled. "What does Housen have to do with Serizawa's girl? If you leave now, maybe I'll keep it quiet, eh, Narumi?"

"Losers like you couldn't concern me. But if _you_ leave now, maybe I'll let it be with all your fingers."

"You think I'm intimidated by you?"

"Oie." They turned abruptly, and Tamao glared at them. When he arrived, she wasn't sure, but the look on his face could've killed phantoms. "Are you the assholes who hurt Hana?"

"Serizawa," Narumi interrupted. "We can handle this."

"You two bastards think you can take us?" bellowed the Goliath.

"Not two," Tamao corrected, walking calmly closer. "Just this one bastard." He clocked the leader perfectly between his beady eyes, and, though the guy stood a few seconds, the colossus collapsed. The other goons didn't stay to try their hand.

Tamao wasted no time on them and crossed the distance toward her. "What're you doing here, Narumi?"

"Just lending a hand." He looked at Hana. "I didn't want Hana-chan ending up in another unfair fight."

"She's my concern," Tamao said firmly, bringing Narumi's eyes back on him. "Not yours."

Narumi smirked. "I don't kiss a girl without taking responsibility for her."

Tamao was a bit shorter than Narumi, but that didn't keep him from meeting him eye-to-eye when only inches separated them. "Then you shouldn't kiss another man's girl."

Narumi continued smirking at Tamao, whose calm fierceness never receded. Hana clutched her fingers around Tamao's elbow and took his hand with the other. "Tamao," she whispered. He looked at her and must have seen the concern, because a bit of the ferocity diminished.

"So." They turned on Narumi, whose smirk already faded. "You _are_ Serizawa's girl."

Hana knew he was upset but nodded. "Hai."

The smirk returned, and he stepped back. "Serizawa, make sure your leader is worthy to face me."

Tamao's arm pulsed instinctively, but he wasn't baited. "Don't worry. If Takiya doesn't destroy you, I will."

"I look forward to it." Then Narumi turned and walked away.

Hana sighed lightly, a little sad things with Narumi worked out like this, but redirected her attention. "Did Genji beat Rinda-man?"

Tamao's eyes never left Narumi's exit. "Iie. But he did better."

"Good." She released his arm and maneuvered in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "Is he okay?"

"Fine." He ruffled her hair then turned and walked away. "I have to get back. Tokio smells trouble."

"Okay." She sounded more concerned than she meant to, and Tamao stopped.

He waited uncertainly then spoke. "Did he really kiss you?"

She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to say it and it be true. But she had to nod. "Hai. The night everyone was ambushed."

He nodded too. "Soka." Then he left.

Hana didn't follow. He didn't want her to. Resigned to his solitude, she headed back for her apartment in hopes of cleaning up a little.

No such luck, as Jun barged in with beer and movies shortly after one o'clock. She passed on the beer but welcomed his company and the film distraction. Well, sort of. Most of the flicks were Yakuza, but she appreciated the thought all the same. Jun ended up drunk halfway through the second movie and passed out by the fifth. He always could pack it in; he just couldn't fight off the side effects.

Tamao never called. Suzuran may have monopolized his time. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but his anger made her nervous. He wouldn't avoid her; they were beyond that now, but doubt was a disease. The call never came.

Unable to content herself, she tucked Jun onto the couch, pocketed her phone, and set out for Suzuran. No one bothered her, what few people she saw, and the darkness concealed her. More than once she turned too soon or not soon enough. She had never been to the school at night; how could she be expected to find it effortlessly?

Not that it mattered, since the burning campus and wild smoke would have found her in an abyss.

"Oh my God."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Oh my God." The flames stretched up through the building toward the sky, the hand of Hell reaching into the school like talons. Watching the fire rip down the structure wall by wall, shattering window by window, horrified her. It was too shocking at first. It couldn't be. Not Suzuran, the school of free, unbeatable Crows. It simply wasn't possible.

But then, why was she crying? She must have started earlier than she realized because her cheeks were slippery with them, but the act came so naturally it never occurred to her she might wipe them away. The flames enraptured her, and the ferocious rivers of smoke seeped into her gapping mouth. She hunched forward and choked. Not Suzuran. How could it be?

Then she saw something else, something amidst the flames and bog. It moved like a puff of smoke amidst the flames, but then it growled in frustration. It was some_one_.

"Sumi!" Hana covered her nose with her sleeve and charged through the maze of flames. Navigating was nearly impossible, and her teary eyes stung from the dry smoke smothering them. The cloud never cleared, but the flames did when she reached the side of the building. Sumi yanked at a hose wrapped around the hook and ducked from the lashing heat overhead. "Sumi! What're you doing?"

"We have to put it out!" She didn't even turn around. "We have to put it out!"

"Stop it, you're gonna get yourself killed!" She pulled Sumi's arm, but Sumi elbowed her away, knocking her to the ground. Sumi grabbed the knob of the hose then screamed and flew back. "Sumi!" Hana scrambled back up, and an imprint smoked black in Sumi's palm. But Sumi rolled back up and reached for the nozzle again. Hana grabbed Sumi under both arms and fought against the delusional girl. "_Sumi_! Stop it!"

"We have to put it out! We have to save it!" God she was strong! She may be a Serizawa, but this sort of fierceness only came from blind delirium.

Hana planted her feet then flung Sumi away, knocking her face-first into the dirt. She stationed herself between her and the hose and, when Sumi tried getting around her, she slapped Sumi's face. Sumi's craze transformed into angry shock, and her look of urgency remained. Hana grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "It's not worth it, Sumi."

"How can you say that? We have to save it! We have to—"

"It's just a building, Sumi!" Now Sumi's face dropped, the insanity breeched, and Hana squeezed her. "It's just a building. And Suzuran is much more than that."

Sumi's face contorted, suddenly lost in tears. "Hana."

But then the window next to them exploded, and a roar of heat lashed out ravenously. Hana grabbed Sumi's arms and forced her up. "Let's go! Go, go!" She pushed her forward through the catacomb of black smoke and red-yellow blaze. Even after they broke through the fire, she kept a tight hold on Sumi's wrist and pulled her onward.

Reaching the fence, however, Sumi suddenly collapsed dead weight, and Hana turned just in time to catch her. They fell in a heap on the dirt, free of the smoke but not the scolding heat that rose high in the sky.

They watched the flames boil the school alive then Sumi turned her head and sobbed into Hana's shirt, all the while clutching her for safety. "I can't believe it," she wailed into her buttons. "I can't believe they burned it!"

Hana pulled Sumi into her hold and rocked her back and forth. She didn't know what to say, but as Sumi cried, she clenched her teeth and cried too. Sumi was right. Who could believe it? How could they stoop this low?

"_Sumi_!" Hana looked up, startled, and a group of Suzuran guys ran frantically toward them. Tamao reached them first and slid down into his knees at their side. "Sumi?"

Sumi turned toward him, and the wails instantly ceased. "Tamao." She hugged him with one arm, cradling her wounded hand to her chest.

"What happened?" he demanded against her hold.

Izaki dropped down beside them next and reached around Hana to take Sumi. "Are you hurt?"

Hana relinquished Sumi and stood. "She burnt her hand."

"Let me see." Tamao took Sumi's hand and inspected it while Tokio and the others joined them.

Hana backed away as the guys crowded Sumi. She should have felt like an outsider, but she didn't. Forgotten, like a ghost, but still there. The building beyond still screamed under the wrath of the blaze and made her cry again, that involuntary, silent streaming.

She could have died. Sumi could have died. But she saved her, and the cavalry came. Oh God. Something rose in her stomach, something she suppressed until now. Her body shook, and her chest heaved. A scream was coming. She could feel it; it was inevitable.

Watching the destruction, she wanted to capture this moment. To save it at the forefront of her mind and never forget. This was the single most defining moment of her life, and she didn't know how to feel. Why wasn't she feeling? Why was her body trying so hard to repress all the emotions bursting from her?

"It doesn't look real serious," Tamao decided. "Maybe a first degree burn. What the hell were you thinking?"

"We saw you from the other building," Tokio added. "You could've been killed!"

Sumi shook her head. "No, Hana—" She turned her head frantically, unable to see around the mass of guys. "Where's Hana? Hana!" She clutched Izaki's hand but stared desperately at Tamao. "She saved me."

Everyone talked loudly now, but Tamao jumped up. He shoved through the guys and saw Hana standing back in the shadows, clutching her chest and shaking as she cried. She wanted to run, far away, but his eyes held her stationary. Then he marched aggressively toward her. She felt the impulse to step back, but he flung an arm across her shoulders while the other cupped the back of her head and pulled her tightly against him. His body heat suffocated her, but she clutched at his back and held him close.

"Are you okay?" He sounded out of breath, but his hold was strong. "Are you hurt?"

Hana cried again, finally feeling an overwhelming relief and absurd fear. She screamed into his shoulder and sunk her fingers deep into the fabric of his shirt. Her body trembled more than ever, but as she screamed, it felt like release.

Tamao kissed her hair and temple numerous times then pressed his lips into her ear. "Aishiteru." She cried louder and clutched harder, but his stress kept strong. "Aishiteru. It's gonna be all right, I promise." He stopped kissing and just held her tight. "Aishiteru."

Nothing could've set her more at ease. He soothed her tears and killed the awful repression. His warmth no longer asphyxiated her, and their tight, clawing grip became a strong embrace. She melted perfectly into him. The fire and smoke were temporarily forgotten.

"We should get Sumi to a hospital," said Izaki abruptly.

Hana looked over Tamao's shoulder, and Izaki helped Sumi stand. Their eyes met, and Hana felt drawn to her. She pulled at Tamao's shirt, and he released her curiously. Sumi stepped forward, and Hana instantly rushed up. They hugged each other, that sense of insatiable urgency reborn.

They were forever linked, she and Sumi. But not only them. She was linked with all of them now, with Suzuran. The bond was sealed.

She was a Crow.

* * *

Luckily, Sumi's injuries weren't serious, and they spent little time in the hospital. Hana offered to walk her home, but Sumi wanted time with Izaki now that her nerves stabilized. Hana understood; she wanted the same with Tamao but kept her wishes secret. He needed to be with his family. So they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

The silent walk home felt pleasant. Nothing scared her. She welcomed the darkness and silence after the screaming blaze.

Jun was gone when she got back, but he left her a note telling her not to get into too much trouble while he was drunk. And he left the two movies they never watched.

It was so late, and the adrenaline rush let her energy crash. Tired, tired, tired; too tired to even lock her door. She crossed the living room into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

So damn tired.

* * *

The door was unlocked, but all the lights were off. Had something happened to her? Nothing looked out of place, relatively the same as he left it that morning.

But _she_ wasn't the same. This war forced her to change, make sacrifices. Just how many would she have to make? Better yet, how many was she going to make?

Tamao locked the door behind him and walked to the far end of the apartment, where her bedroom sat open as well. He looked inside and smiled. She lay sprawled on the bed, chest down and face turned, and her small feet dangled off the end. She hadn't even taken off her shoes. But her face was smudged black, and a scent of burning ash settled around the room.

He never should've let her into his world. He never should've taken her to bed with him. He never should've told her he loved her. He never should've loved her in the first place.

But he had. He had let her in, taken her, told her. And he did love her.

Tamao set one knee on the bed and slipped his hand beneath her neck. "You need to change. Come on, I'll give you a bath." He pulled her upright then tucked an arm beneath her legs and scooped her up. She moaned sleepily and pressed her face into his neck.

He carried her into the bathroom, stood her up, and undressed her. She was delicious porcelain, but their lovemaking proved she was the strong porcelain. He couldn't help it; she was too beautiful. His hands traced her curves deliberately, and he kissed her sensitive areas, from her small wrists to the tips of her breasts. He didn't caress her lower than her shapely hips. The temptation would be too great, so he slid her pants and underwear down without taking his eyes off the floor.

When she stood completely naked, he undressed himself, too. She moaned from time to time when he kissed her but never opened her eyes. Now she did, just a little, but when he completely stripped, she took a clumsy step forward and slammed her lips against his. He held her steady, and they kissed. It was short, but she smiled against his lips.

Tamao sat her down on the stool and ran the shower. He lathered up the soap and lightly scrubbed her. Except for her smudged face and dirty hands, her skin looked perfect. Her narrow shoulders, her back, her rounded buttocks. He reached around and rubbed the scrubber against her. She leaned back against him, but the sexuality didn't bolster. He scrubbed her inner thighs then the top and moved around to clean the front of her body now that her most tempting parts were covered. Down one slender leg and between her small toes, down the other, across her stomach, over her breasts. He washed the length of one arm, but when he got to her hands, she effortlessly pulled them free and cupped his face. Her eyes never opened, but she stroked his cheek. He smiled and let her as he scrubbed her other arm then washed her neck and face. Once he sprayed her down, he washed her hair then sprayed again.

He wiped her face with a rag and stood, but she took his hand and wiggled it. She wanted him to sit, and he did. She took the scrubber from him, sprayed it down, and then added more soap. She may have been mostly asleep, but her proficiency lingered. She scrubbed the front of him first, down his long arms, over his torso and stomach, and to his waist. She lathered the soap a little more and touched his member with the scrub, but he grabbed her wrist. Just looking at her was seduction, especially with her face clean and clear.

She blinked up at him, and he stared at her. Slowly, she lathered every inch of him. He stared at the ceiling, determined not to take advantage, but she didn't tease him. Scrubbing his stern legs and dirty feet, she motioned for him to turn. He did, and she washed his back and neck down to his tight buttocks. She sprayed him down, kissing his back every few inches, then washed his hair, too.

Tamao tied his hair up afterward then ran a hot bath. It wasn't necessary, but he wanted her skin soaked to the bone. Hopefully it would clean out whatever fear still remained. He helped her in then got in behind her and pulled her back against him. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, lying atop her breasts, and he kissed along her neck and ear. She fit too perfectly here, conformed into him like the second half of a jigsaw. It wasn't right for her to be so perfect to him. She could do better.

Her head tilted awkwardly. Her consciousness was slipping. He squeezed her and kissed her temple. "Let's go to bed."

He helped her out and toweled her down then carried her back to the bedroom. He dressed her with some difficulty, as her perception drifted further and further, but his patience never thinned. He enjoyed doing things for her, even if they were difficult. He preferred it that way.

When they were both dressed, he pulled her down beside him on the bed and settled the covers over them. She snuggled up to him immediately, her arm around his naked stomach and her head tucked under his stubbly chin. Her smooth legs laced between his, and he nuzzled her closer. "Aishiteru, Hana-chan," he whispered into her forehead as his fingers brushed her hair from her face.

He was tired, too. He hadn't realized it until now when he held her in bed. Sleep never felt so good.

He felt her mouth smile into his chest, and she mumbled, "Aishiteru, Tamao-senpai."

* * *

Tamao woke the next morning to a humming vibration on the nightstand. He sighed and grabbed blindly for the cellphone. "Moshi-mosh?"

"Tamao-senpai, are you still in bed?"

He groaned, confused, and flipped over on the bed. Sure enough, it was empty. "Hana? What the hell?"

"I had some things to take care of today, but you better get your ass up and get to Suzuran. After what happened last night, this is no time to be down on the job. Get up! Or I'm kicking you out of my bed tonight!"

Damnit, why did women have to be so maniacal? "Okay, I'm up." He flung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and stretched. "You could've just woke me up when you left. What's with the wakeup call?"

"Your consciousness tends to impede any attempt to get things accomplished, Serizawa Tamao."

"Not my fault. You're the one who made the mistake of seducing a yankee."

"Shut up, baka. I have to go though. I'll come by the school later."

"Wait." He wanted to ask her what she was doing. Something scratched his suspicion, urging him to antagonize her until she caved. But he didn't. "Are you feeling better?"

"Hai." He could hear the smile in her voice. "Arigatō for taking care of me."

Good thing she wasn't there, because he hated people seeing him blush, and the heat in his cheeks was definitely a blush. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"All right. Kick some ass!"

He smirked and hung up. "Kawaii." He stretched again and shuffled across the room for his clothes.

* * *

Hana put the phone in her pocket, maneuvered her camera behind her elbow, and walked into the office. It was small and cluttered, but homey in a reclusive sort of way. Takaguchi sat at the far end of the room, bent over a stack of papers and massaging his temple with a pen between his fingers. He didn't hear her enter but looked up when she cleared her throat. "Hana-chan! This is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

Hana took a seat across from him and leaned forward. "Sensei, we need to be honest with each other. Things are getting hectic, and if we're gonna collaborate, we're gonna have to trust each other. I'll go first." She cleared her throat. "I'm involved with a student from Suzuran, but even more than that, voluntarily involved in their war against Housen. The two schools've been rivals for years, but recent events have escalated into a full-on war, and any day now the final showdown's gonna come knocking. But, you already knew that, didn't you?"

He raised his eyebrows, but she continued. "I'm also certain you know that Suzuran was burned down last night by someone from Housen, and that Genji's father was almost killed. Most importantly, sensei, I'm sure you know vastly more than I do about what's going on, and though I don't have any solid evidence, I'm sure the College Board would have a field day at the mere speculation that one of their teachers is directly involved with Yakuza activity." She feigned concern. "What if they somehow found evidence? My God, you could get fired, sensei!"

Takaguchi reclined back in his chair and sighed. He didn't answer at first, but her stare was unwavering. "When I was young, I was a Yakuza in training. I left before being fully adopted into the gang, but I still have close ties since many of my friends are involved. And you're right, I do know vastly more than what you've just told me. I know, for instance, exactly who burned Suzuran." She straightened.

He set his elbows on the desk and laced his long fingers together. "Is that what you came to find out, Hana-chan?"

Hana wasn't daunted and crossed her arms over the desk. "Iie. Actually, sensei, I came here to ask for a favor."

He tilted his head. "A favor?"

"Hai." She smiled. "I need to see Takiya Hideo."

Takaguchi stared then chuckled. "There's no way. You'd never get past the security, and I can't sacrifice my career for one of your games."

"Can't you?" She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a running tape recorder. She examined it briefly like she was surprised to find it then shrugged. "Damn. How long has this thing been recording?"

He glanced at it then at her and sighed again.

* * *

Darkness blanketed the hospital. True, it was third-rate, and necessarily so if this was going to stay hidden from the other bosses who might take advantage of Hideo's weak state. But the smell disgusted her. Bleh, definitely not sanitary, even for third-rate.

Hana kept her eyes down, careful not to attract any attention from the Yakuza members roaming the halls. Takaguchi managed to distract the receptionist long enough for her to slip in, but she somehow got lost in the darkness and branching hallways. Where did Takaguchi say it was again? This all made no sense to her, dissecting the hallways like this. Who the hell designed this friggin building anyway?

"Son of a bitch," she hissed. "What the hell kinda hospital gets so complicated you can't even find one single Yakuza boss's room? And where the hell is sensei? Jeez, the old fart certainly wasn't much help when it came to—"

"What the hell are you thinking, you bastard?"

Hana flattened to the wall, expecting exploitation, but the voice wasn't talking to her, and another followed it.

"Please wait! _Please wait! Let him go!_"

"_Shut up_!"

"He wasn't gonna do anything! Please don't hurt Kawaishi! Please deal with me, he had nothing to do with it!"

She was instantly down the hall and huddled at a distance from the group of Yakuza guards crowding the doorway. Kawaishi must be inside, but who was the other guy? Why was Kawaishi even there?

"I know you. You guys are our rivals after all!"

"_Please forgive us_!" the unknown man pleaded. "Forgive us!"

"Let's take them both!"

The doorway cleared a moment as the guards grabbed for the two men inside, just long enough for Hana to get beside it without anyone noticing, and then all fell silent. She could hear the heart monitor inside, but nothing else. What happened? Daringly, she peeked inside.

"Shut up," a low voice mumbled weakly. "Katagiri." One man near the front stepped closer. "You shouldn't speak too loud in a hospital." She didn't know who this Katagiri was, but in the crowd, Kawaishi stood huddled beneath a group of Yakuza. "You, of all people, saved my life. Now I'll return the favor. Let them both go."

"But Boss, he tried to kill you!" What? Kawaishi? Kawaishi tried to kill Genji's father? Why? How did he know anything about—

"Fly…Crows."

And that was it. That ever-elusive bond. A fighter's mentality.

"Hana-chan." Hana turned and nearly jumped at Takaguchi crouched beside her. "There's too much traffic here. Let's go."

"Wait." She waved him off and crossed to the other side of the doorway. She had not come all this way for nothing. "Sumimasen."

The guards turned and grabbed her arms. One caught the strap of her camera, but he stumbled away when someone pushed him aside. "Wait! Wait!" Kawaishi raised his hands in surrender but stood between her and the other guards. "She's from Suzuran. She's one of us."

Hana cradled her camera against her chest and bowed. "Sumimasen. I came to see Takiya Hideo-sama."

The men parted like the Red Sea, and Hideo was clearly visible now across the room. He looked feebler than she expected with the oxygen mask hanging by his face and the monitoring clip taped to his limp finger. His hair was still sleeked back from his face, but his eyes were groggy as he turned his head and motioned her forward. She hesitated then complied, bowed appropriately, and sat the camera on the side of the bed. He blinked slowly. "You have something to say to me, youngster?"

She nodded. "Hai. Takiya Hideo-sama, I just came here to tell you that Genji won't let you down. Even if he doesn't conquer Suzuran, he's a good kid and will never disappoint you. I don't know if he's ever said it, but he cares a lot about you. You're a Yakuza boss, and it's demanding to play your son. But Genji will be a great man one day, just wait and see.

"I've become a part of Suzuran's war against Housen. I never asked to get involved with all this shit, but it's without a doubt the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love Suzuran, all of them, even the shady bastards who never learn, but I love them. Which means I love you, Takiya-sama, and, I just wanted to thank you for giving birth to Genji. Without him," she pressed her lips together, ignoring the prickling tears blurring her vision, "I may never have gotten the opportunity to love them. And I just wanted you to know that."

Hideo blinked slowly again then took a deep breath. "Is there anything else?"

Hana firmed her jaw and nodded. "Hai. With your permission, Takiya-sama, I'd like to take your picture."

"Hana!" Takaguchi appeared now, but the guards didn't restrain him. He came up beside her and hissed in her ear, "You can't ask a Yakuza to let you take his picture. That's entirely inappropriate!"

Hana ignored him. "Please, Takiya-sama, let me take your picture."

"Yamada Hana!"

Hideo held up his limp hand, and Takaguchi silenced. He waved at her then dropped his hand on the camera. "Just one. But not now. When I'm better, I'll ask Genji to bring you home. You can take a picture there." He pointed at her again. "But if you try anything, your sensei is gonna be right. Regrettably."

She smiled. "Arigatō, Takiya-sama. Arigatō gozaimasu."

He waved his hand and rolled his head away. "Now get out, all of you. I'm tired."

* * *

She couldn't get to Suzuran fast enough. After an ear full from Takaguchi, she did her shopping then headed straight for Suzuran. She was still invigorated by her encounter with Hideo. She honestly expected him to decline outright, but somehow, his forgiveness toward Kawaishi and Katagiri bolstered her optimism. Kawaishi's words made her daring. He didn't stay to speak with her but nodded before leaving with Katagiri. It wasn't much, but it felt like a salute. She really was a Crow.

The station came into view, and she beamed. "Tokaji!" He looked up, but his solemn face made her slow. "What's wrong?"

He smoked his cigarette and fiddled with the steel pipe in his hands. "GPS officially declared war on Housen today. The final fight's tomorrow."

She shrugged. "We knew it was coming. But we're prepared, right?"

"Not us," he corrected and looked at her again. "We're not GPS. We're the Serizawa Faction, and we don't follow Takiya Genji."

She furrowed her brow and frowned. "But you guys are gonna fight, right? I mean, you can't just let him go alone, he's too outnumbered."

"Then hopefully his little speech today will win him over a few soldiers."

Hana glared and marched past him. Tokio caught sight of her first and stepped out to meet her. "Hana-chan—"

She shouldered him out of the way and kicked the table sitting in front of Tamao as he sat calmly in a chair. "You're not going with Genji tomorrow?"

Tamao sighed but met her glare. "I never said I would follow Takiya."

"But this is against Suzuran, not just Genji!"

"And he's the one who caused this war. It's only fitting he should pay for his mistakes."

Her lip curled, and she actually snarled. "What the fuck kind of logic is that? If Genji's defeated, so is _all_ of Suzuran! Once they've beat him, they're gonna come after you!"

"Good," barked Tokaji. "Then we can show them the true power of the Serizawa Faction."

"_The Serizawa Faction is over_!" Hana shrieked, glaring fiercely over her shoulder at Tokaji then back at Tamao. "Genji is the leader of Suzuran, whether you want to accept it or not. You're defeated, and that's the end of it."

"Takiya's done nothing but rip this school apart since he beat Tamao," Tokaji interceded.

"And this rebellion is any better?" She gawked when Tamao leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The bastard! But she couldn't yell at him for it. It was his choice. It was always a choice. No one could force them to do anything.

"Fine." She pulled the bag off her shoulder and threw it at him, where it smacked him directly in the chest. "Be a stupid bastard!" She unhooked the camera strap around her neck and set it on the table. "Stubborn jackass!" Then she stormed away.

"Hana." Tokio tried to stop her, but she shoved him away and continued on.

When she was gone, Tamao raised his head and looked at the camera on the table. He lifted the bag off his chest and pulled out the contents. It was a new shirt, a nice red, button-down flannel. He sighed and tossed it onto the table next to the camera.

Tokio passed him a disapproving glare.

* * *

"What an asshole," she growled into the darkness of the shady tree. How could they still be so petty after all that happened? After Suzuran had been burned? Tokaji said it himself, Genji asked for the help of the rest of Suzuran, and those shallow bastards were still headstrong in their retaliation? She sniffled loudly and tightened her chest to keep from crying equally as loud. "Real asshole," she choked out and wiped her runny eyes. "Big asshole."

"Hana?"

Hana wasn't surprised to see Tokio come up beside her. She scooted over, giving him a spot in the grass, but kept her eyes down. "You don't always have to be the Good Samaritan, ya know."

He smiled and sat down beside her. Silence lingered a few moments, and his eyes remained on her. "Gomen, Hana-chan. He's just doing what he thinks is best."

She wanted to argue. She was good at arguing. She had been doing it all her life. But she just cried harder, and Tokio pulled her against him. He patted her shoulder with one hand and rubbed her arm with the other. It did little to sooth her, but it was better than nothing.

It didn't compare to Tamao's arms.

* * *

She spent the night alone. She had spent many nights alone, but this one felt different. It wasn't just a night alone; it was a night without Tamao. Who needed the bastard? Who needed that damn bastard!

She did, obviously, when she spent the night crying in her bed. The pillows got cold with her tears, and she flung them onto the floor. It didn't matter that she loved him, and he loved her. It didn't matter that she was part of their lives now, or that GPS faced imminent defeat. No. None of that mattered. What mattered was that she was alone now, lying in bed without friends or family. Without him.

And no one ever got used to being alone. Not really. Not ever.

She woke around three, tangled in the sheets and her head on a pillow. She turned in the bed, confused, and stared at his face. He still slept, facing her, molded just inches from her body. She wanted to cry again but couldn't. They were dry for now.

Still, she turned over and pressed her body into his then kissed him. His eyes fidgeted then blinked awake. They stared at each other silently, and Tamao opened his mouth. She pressed her finger over his lips and shook her head. Apologies were just polite words. They meant nothing. Then he brushed her hand away, cupped her cheek, and kissed her—hard. His tongue breached her instantly, and she fell on her back, eager for his touch.

He made love to her. It was a different type of love than before. The first time was passionate, consumed by desire and eagerness to consummate their overpowering feelings. This time, they moved slowly, savoring each touch and every kiss as if it were the last. He was so sweet, caressing her in all the right places in all the right ways, and his lips couldn't get enough of hers. Over and over he came into her, each time a sweeter, stronger fulfillment.

Then, their energy spent, he slept in her arms. He cradled to her like a lover to his goddess, and she clutched him tightly.

* * *

Hana woke for an obnoxious banging on her front door. It took only moments to realize Tamao was gone, and not surprising when the afternoon dominated the view outside her window. She dressed quickly and shuffled to the door as the guest continued banging. "All right, I'm coming!"

But she stopped when she passed the kitchen. Her camera and a small note sat on the counter. She ignored the persistent noise and went to read it.

You have my permission.

She quirked an eyebrow and picked up the camera. "Hm?"

"Hana!"

Hana blinked and hurried over to the door. "Sumi-chan?" She unlocked the bolt and flung it open. "Sumi-chan!"

Sumi rolled her eyes. "Genji's call for battle didn't rally the troops. He's going by himself!"

"Nani?" She rushed into a pair of sneakers and scrambled to straighten her appearance a little. "We can't let him go alone, we—" But she stopped.

Sumi was halfway turned to leave then pivoted around at the silence. "Hana-chan?"

Hana glanced over her shoulder at the note and camera lying on the counter. You have my permission…

"_I don't even have a camera, and I don't really even have a subject since, oh yeah, 'it's an invasion of privacy to take pictures of people—'"_

"'—_Without telling them.' That's what I said. So just tell us when you're gonna take pictures."_

"Tamao." She firmed her jaw, rushed back inside, and snatched up the camera. "Things are gonna get crazy, Sumi-chan, and we don't wanna miss it!" She flung the camera across her chest and barreled past her. "Let's go!"

"Uh, w-wait!" Sumi slammed the door and scrambled after her. "Hana-chan!"

But she wouldn't be stopped. There was no time to waste, and they waited so long for this moment. She couldn't miss it! Her feet never moved so fast, as wild and reckless as her spirit. She almost felt she could fly.

Housen could've been found in the dark, even with the surrounding trees, because battle cries and screams sounded from within. Hana broke through the front gate and around the side. In the field behind, the coven of baldies battled in a circle around a single person. Genji.

"Hana!" Sumi skidded to a halt beside her and grabbed her elbow. "What're you doing? Are you crazy?"

"Keep up, Sumi-chan." Hana crouched and darted away from the building into the bushes lining the field. No one saw her, and Sumi followed suit. She lay flat on the ground and settled her camera between two branches. The shot was clear.

"What're you doing?" Sumi hissed.

"Shh!" Hana waved her off. "Any minute now."

"Any minute for what?"

"_OIE_!"

That was when they saw it. The one-on-dozens fight ceased and turned to the black mass approaching. GPS, lead by Chuta, Makise, and Izaki, crossed the field in a swarm.

"Oh my God." Sumi leaned in and gawked. "Tamao."

Serizawa Faction marched forward as well, piloted by the Mikami brothers, Tokaji, Tokio, and Tamao. For once, Tamao wore his Suzuran jacket, and underneath was a familiar red flannel shirt. And as the troops marched, they blended together, GPS and Serizawa Faction joined, like…

Hana smiled and pressed the camera against her eye. "Like a flock of crows."

"I don't believe it," Sumi gasped. "Suzuran…united."

The soldiers stopped several feet back, and Tamao stepped forward. Hana felt herself stop breathing, and Sumi gripped her shoulder as her own breath hitched. Tamao's face was stern.

"Did you really think we wouldn't follow our captain?"

Hana nearly screamed but instead grinned wider than ever and kicked her feet like a toddler. As Genji stared at Tamao, his face twitched, desirous to grin as well, and Tamao smirked. The camera caught the moment perfectly. This most perfect of moments.

Genji faced Housen again, and the Suzuran guys readied themselves for battle. It was about that time.

"Takiya Genji!" Narumi stepped up now, and his face practically shinned with the thrill of combat. "Make your way to the rooftop. We'll have our one-on-one there!"

Then, with a leading cry from Genji, a wave of yells sounded across the field, and white and black collided like darkness and light.

They battled like crazy, and Housen easily outnumbered the Crows. But numbers meant nothing here. In minutes, the white uniforms had been reduced to stepping stones, and the black wave moved forward. "Hey, Takiya!" shouted Tamao. "Let's go inside!"

Hana spun on Sumi and grabbed her shirt. "Sumi-chan, are you a good fighter?"

"Huh?" Sumi raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess so. I've never lost a fight yet."

"Great!" Then she jumped up and charged toward the fray. "Then cover me!"

"Hana!"

Hana ducked under a wild swing and flung a guy over her head, all the while keeping her camera ready. One grabbed a handful of her shirt, but Sumi's foot upside his face freed her, and they bolted into the school after the guys.

Getting the pictures was easy. Between ducking and following behind Sumi, no moment escaped her lens. The Mikami brothers held off the first floor stairwell, and Hana felt compelled to kick one guy directly in the back when he tried cracking Manabu over the head with a chair. He passed her a surprised grin, and she flashed his picture.

Up the stairs and through the mayhem, a hoard of baldies scurried out of a classroom and barreled down the hallway at them and other Suzurans. They slipped through easily enough, as the guys were more interested in fighting other guys, and Hana caught a glimpse of the scuffle in the classroom. Makise against Narumi. It was fitting, after the alley brawl weeks ago. They needed things settled. One click, and the girls pressed forward.

The battle was everywhere, down every hallway, in every classroom, up every stairwell. No one stood idle, and few remained on the ground for long. Anyone who did got trampled by the next wave of fighters coming to take their place. Reaching one corridor especially crowded with guys, Hana stood immobile for closer shots of the fallen men and fisticuffs.

"_Izaki_!" Hana's attention shifted where Tokaji and Izaki fought at the end of the hallway. "You better not lose to these punks."

"Go mind your own business," Izaki shot back, but they both smiled. Then the camaraderie was over, and the battle was on again.

Izaki knocked down the guys immediately on him then vaulted up the stairs. Sumi was eager to follow, and Hana caught Tokaji and Chuta's charge on the blonde Housen leader before hurrying after her bodyguard. It was too late. Sumi and Izaki disappeared amidst the fight upstairs, and Hana slipped into the nearest hallway.

As she did, Tokio yelled as the baldies yanked off his helmet. He socked two away, but another punched his face, and a forth kicked him directly in the head. He fell straight back, banging his skull on the floor. She gawked, horrified to have it on camera, and bolted at them. "Tokio!"

Suddenly, Tokio sat up and got to his feet. "_No way in hell_!" He kicked his attacker into the window and started head-butting the nearest baldies. "Did you think you could beat me?" He head-butted another guy, twice for good measure, and turned. "Come on, who's next?"

Hana grabbed one guy by the back of his jacket and flung him as hard as she could. He knocked over three other guys and crashed through the window. "Tokio-kun!"

Tokio spun on her and threw his arm out. "Go! Keep going! I can handle this!"

She pounded one guy directly in the nose and even felt his bones crack against her knuckles. She escaped the scene otherwise unscathed and flew up the next flight of stairs.

Sumi and Izaki made it here already, along with Genji and Tamao. They were stalled, however, by the desks and chairs pilled in front of the next staircase.

"So you guys are already here!" Matoba. She would recognize that golden-toothed idiot anywhere, and he came down the hallway toward the gathered group of Suzurans. "But this is as far as you go."

"What a pain in the ass," Genji mumbled. "Let's end this quickly."

"We need to get to the rooftop," added Tamao as they walked for Matoba. "Hey, go clear the passage."

"Oie!" a Suzuran shouted. "Let's go!"

"_KILL THEM_!" screamed Matoba, and the baldies stampeded forward.

Hana tucked her camera behind her elbow and joined the guys clearing the passage. It didn't take long, but every second was too many as she listened to the beating going on below. They cleared it quickly, and she hurried down with another Suzuran as he shouted, "Oie! The passage is clear!"

Genji and Tamao broke away from the onslaught and fought their way back toward the stairs. Izaki remained, and Sumi flanked him. They reached the stairway, and Hana bit her lip when Tamao spotted her. He grabbed her elbow and forced her in between him and Genji. Housen charged after them, but Izaki and Sumi cut off their passage.

Up, up, more stairs but no more enemies. Almost there, around the corner, and—

Hana recoiled and slipped back against Tamao. He stood at the top of the next flight, his long dark hair draping down both sides of his pale, expressionless face. Ryo.

"Took you long enough."

Tamao glanced at Hana, who glared at the Housen, then back at Ryo. "Who the hell're you?"

"My name's Urushibara Ryo."

Tamao's expression changed. His panting ceased, and what little curiosity he had about this guy changed to stoic challenge. "Were you the one that beat up Tsutsumoto?"

Ryo ignored him. "I'm guarding this place. The only person allowed through is the man who defeated Serizawa."

Hana clutched her camera and stepped up. "You asshole—"

Tamao caught her arm. He didn't grab it, just slipped his hand around her elbow enough to stop her, and his eyes remained on Ryo. "Takiya." He glanced at Genji. "Go ahead. I'll take on this guy."

Tamao looked back at Ryo, and Genji moved forward. "Oo." He passed around Ryo but stopped on the next steps. "You better be ready. He might be a lot more than you could handle." He and Ryo exchanged a look then he was up the stairs and out the door onto the roof.

"Hana-chan." Tamao motioned her back down the stairs. "Stay out of the way."

She would stay out of the way, but not out of sight. "Ryo. Let me sit up on those steps." They both looked at them as she pointed. "I won't go to the roof. Not until Tamao kicks your ass." Ryo didn't respond but stepped aside. Hana marched up and perched herself on the next set of stairs. The camera was ready, and the showdown finally began.

Ryo had the speed. His attacks were well-choreographed and perfectly balanced, executed precisely for the greatest affect. Tamao blocked most of them, but Ryo was too fast for a counterattack. He pushed Tamao further and further back, and they danced around the hallway in their chase-and-retreat. She could hear Genji and Narumi outside and desperately wanted access to their battle. But she never took her eyes off Tamao, or rather, never lowered her camera from him.

The battles downstairs should be coming to a close. In whose favor, she wasn't sure, but she knew her boys and she knew Sumi. Beating Housen and maintaining Suzuran was more important than breathing. This war cost them all something, but they united. Maybe a little bit for each other, but mostly for Suzuran. Because, in the end, they were all Crows.

Tamao didn't even block anymore. All Ryo's assaults landed exactly where he wanted them, and Tamao took each blow. Then one of Ryo's well-placed kicks knocked Tamao down the stairs into the desk and chairs that waited at the bottom.

Hana jumped up but kept her camera raised. Tamao wasn't getting up.

"Narumi-san was wrong about you," Ryo mocked, voice no louder than an absent thought.

Tamao pushed a chair off his legs and sat up. He stared at Ryo, and his face was a mess—talk about blasphemous—but he got up and walked leisurely up the stairs. "I see, I see."

Ryo was suddenly defensive and backed away. He punched his face, again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and rammed his fist into Tamao's stomach, but each attack only made Tamao's face tighter—meaner. He took another desperate throw for Tamao's face, but this time Tamao caught it and squeezed, much to Ryo's horror.

"Fighting and martial arts are two different things." He made a face, as if asking if Ryo understood, then pounded him directly in the face. Ryo crashed back into the lockers, dazed by the hit, then forced himself upright again. "It's over for you." Tamao drop-kicked him straight to the ground, and this time, Ryo didn't get up.

Hana descended from her spot and helped Tamao up, but he really didn't need it. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." He ruffled her hair. "Just gotta go check on Takiya."

"Not me." She shouldered her camera again and hurried back down the stairs. "I'm gonna check on the others! Look after Genji!"

She didn't need to, she knew that. If Suzuran was winning, they wouldn't need her help. If not, she'd be of little help anyway. But she couldn't watch Genji and Narumi fight. She hadn't earned that privilege, and quite frankly, she didn't want it. She saw more than enough, and thanks to a few hundred bucks, so would many other people in a gallery next month.

She met up with Tokio first, who happily threw his arm over her shoulder, and they descended further. Makise stumbled into the hallway with them, and they helped him down. Izaki and Sumi already rendezvoused with the Mikami's on the first floor, and Tokaji stood in the doorway searching for a cigarette.

"Hana-chan." Sumi beamed and hugged her. "Thank God you're okay. Gomen nasai, I didn't mean to leave you, I just—"

"Didn't get a scratch." Hana patted her shoulder. "Besides, I would have done the same if it had been Tamao."

"Well?" Manabu asked urgently.

She shrugged. "Genji made it to the top. We'll see what happens." She raised her camera and moved past them. "I'll be back. I'm gonna get a few more shots." She punched Tokaji's arm on her way out, and he smirked at her. He could be such a dick, but this made up for it.

The pillage outside paled in comparison to the carnage inside, and many of the guys were already up and fixing themselves. An ideal close, truthfully, as they dusted themselves off and smacked each other's chests. Ah, these guys really were incredible. No matter how old she got or how adventurous her life may become, nothing could surpass this moment. Her moment of awakening coincided with Suzuran's final, honest victory over Housen.

For now, anyway. Things would never be over between Housen and Suzuran.

The field of bodies ended, and Hana faced the defeated school.

Suzuran came out together, cheering and leaning on each other victoriously. Tokaji finally lit up a cigarette, and Chuta crossed in front of him to offer Genji a light. Izaki held his own cigarette in one hand and Sumi's hand in the other. She patted Tokaji on the back then smiled at Chuta as he scurried past them. Tamao smiled, too, at Tokio and Makise as they leaned against one another. Manabu grinned and smoked his nicotine while Go poked at some of his teeth.

They were a rough bunch, but they were family now.

Genji and Tamao stopped and turned, and Hana recognized Washio standing off in the corner. Genji waved him in and they continued forward. "Let's go home." Washio traded his Housen jacket for Suzuran black and joined the group.

Hana smiled, lifted her camera, and snapped a picture. The guys welcomed her into their walk, and Tamao curled an arm around her waist. They smiled and she slipped her arms around his neck then they kissed. Who cared about the teasing?

They were all Crows.

* * *

There's nothing wrong with being a crow. When you compare them to the poor caged birds that have forgotten to fly, crows are much better.

Being a Crow is good enough for me.

**The End**


End file.
